PRUDENCE 

OF  THE  PARSONAGE 
ETHEL   HUESTON 


PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 


"What  did  you  put  in  this  soup,  Prudence?" 


PRUDENCE 

OFTHE  PARSONAGE 


BY 

ETHEL  HUESTON 


'WITHJILLUSTRATIONS  BY! 

ARTHUR  WILLIAM  BROWN 


NEW.YORK 

GROSSET&  DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1915 
Tm  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


TO  MY  MOTHER 

WHO  DEVOTED  HER  LIFE  TO  REARING 

A  WHOLE  PARSONAGE-FULL  OF  ROLLICKING 

YOUNG  METHODISTS 


2136323   ' 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  INTRODUCING  HER 1 

II  THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY 27 

III  THE  LADIES'  AID 53 

IV  A  SECRET  SOCIETY 79 

V  THE  TWINS  STICK  UP  FOR  THE  BIBLE    .     .  108 

VI  AN  ADMIRER 137 

VII   LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE 163 

VIII  THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  OF  WINTER  .     .  187 

IX  PRACTISING  ECONOMY 208 

X  A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT 226 

XI  ROMANCE  COMES 245 

XII  ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER 272 

XIII  SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE 292 

XIV  SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF 315 

XV  FATE  TAKES  CHARGE 332 


PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 


PRUDENCE 
OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

CHAPTER  I 

INTRODUCING  HER 

NONE  but  the  residents  consider  Mount  Mark, 
Iowa,  much  of  a  town,  and  those  who  are 
honest  among  them  admit,  although  reluctantly, 
that  Mount  Mark  can  boast  of  far  more  patriotism 
than  good  judgment  !  But  the  very  most  patriotic 
of  them  all  has  no  word  of  praise  for  the  ugly  little 
red  C,  B.  &  Q.  railway  station.  If  pretty  is  as 
pretty  does,  as  we  have  been  told  so  unpleasantly 
often,  then  the  station  is  handsome  enough,  but  as 
an  ornament  to  the  commonwealth  it  is  a  dismal 
failure, — low,  smoky  and  dust-grimed.  In  winter 
its  bleakness  and  bareness  add  to  the  chill  of  the 
rigorous  Iowa  temperature,  and  in  summer  the  sap 
oozing  through  the  boards  is  disagreeably  suggest- 
ive of  perspiration.  The  waiting-room  itself  is 

1 


2  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"cleaned"  every  day,  and  yet  the  same  dust  lies  in 
the  corners  where  it  has  lain  for  lo,  these  many 
years.  And  as  for  the  cobwebs,  their  chief  dis- 
tinction lies  in  their  ripe  old  age.  If  there  were 
only  seven  spiders  in  the  ark,  after  the  subsiding 
of  the  waters,  at  least  a  majority  of  them  must  have 
found  their  way  to  Mount  Mark  station  in  South- 
eastern Iowa. 

Mount  Mark  is  anything-  but  proud  of  the  little 
station.  It  openly  scoffs  at  it,  and  sniffs  contempt- 
uously at  the  ticket  agent  who  bears  the  entire  C,  B. 
&  Q.  reputation  upon  his  humble  shoulders.  At 
the  same  time,  it  certainly  does  owe  the  rail- 
road and  the  state  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  its 
presence  there.  It  is  the  favorite  social  rendezvous 
for  the  community!  Only  four  passenger  trains 
daily  pass  through  Mount  Mark,— not  including 
the  expresses,  which  rush  haughtily  by  with  no 
more  than  a  scornful  whistle  for  the  sleepy  town, 
and  in  return  for  this  indignity,  Mount  Mark  cher- 
ishes a  most  unchristian  antipathy  toward  those 
demon  fliers. 

But  the  '''passengers"— ah,  that  is  a  different 
Batter.  The  arrival  of  a  passenger  train  in  Mount 
Mark  is  an  evemt— something  in  the  nature  of  a 


INTRODUCING  HER  3 

C.,  B.  &  Q.  "At  Home,"  and  is  always  attended 
by  a  large  and  enthusiastic  gathering  of  "our  best 
people."  All  that  is  lacking  are  the  proverbial 
"light  refreshments!" 

So  it  happened  that  one  sultry  morning,  late  in 

4 

the  month  of  August,  there  was  the  usual  flutter 
of  excitement  and  confusion  on  the  platform  and 
in  the  waiting-room  of  the  station.  The  habitues 
were  there  in  force.  Conspicuous  among  them  were 
four  gaily  dressed  young  men,  smoking  cigarettes 
and  gazing  with  lack-luster  eyes  upon  the  animated 
scene,  which  evidently  bored  them.  All  the  same, 
they  invariably  appeared  at  the  depot  to  witness 
this  event,  stirring  to  others  no  doubt,  but  incapa- 
ble of  arousing  the  interest  of  these  life-weary 
youths.  They  comprised  the  Slaughter-house 
Quartette,  and  were  the  most  familiar  and  notorious 
characters  in  all  the  town. 

The  Daily  News  reporter,  in  a  well-creased,  light 
gray  suit  and  tan  shoes,  and  with  eye-glasses  scien- 
tifically balanced  on  his  aquiline  nose,  was  making 
pointed  inquiries  into  the  private  plans  of  the  trav- 
elers. The  Daily  News  reporters  in  Mount  Mark 
always  wear  well-creased,  light  gray  suits  and  tan 
shoes,  and  always  have  eye-glasses  scientifically  bal- 


4  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

anced  on  aquiline  noses.  The  uninitiated  can  not 
understand  how  it  is  managed,  but  there  lies  the 
fact.  Perhaps  The  News  includes  these  details  in 
its  requirements  of  applicants.  Possibly  it  fur- 
nishes the  gray  suits  and  the  tan  shoes,  and  even 
the  eye-glasses.  Of  course,  the  reporters  can  prac- 
tise balancing  them  scientifically, — but  how  does  it 
happen  that  they  always  have  aquiline  noses?  At 
any  rate,  that  is  the  Mount  Mark  type.  It  never 
varies. 

The  young  woman  going  to  Burlington  to  spend 
the  week-end  was  surrounded  with  about  fifteen 
other  young  women  who  had  come  to  "  see  her  off." 
She  had  relatives  in  Burlington  and  went  there  very 
often,  and  she  used  to  say  she  was  glad  she  didn't 
have  to  exchange  Christmas  presents  with  all  the 
"friends"  who  witnessed  her  arrivals  and  departures 
at  the  station.  Mount  Mark  is  a  very  respectable 
town,  be  it  understood,  and  girls  do  not  go  to  the 
station  without  an  excuse ! 

The  Adams  Express  wagon  was  drawn  close  to 
the  track,  and  the  agent  was  rushing  about  with  a 
breathless  energy  which  seemed  all  out  of  propor- 
tion to  his  accomplishments.  The  telegraph  opera- 
tor was  gating  earnestly  out  of  his  open  window, 


INTRODUCING  HER  5 

and  his  hands  were  busily  moving  papers  from  one 
pigeon-hole  to  another,  and  back  again.  Old  Har- 
vey Reel,  who  drove  the  hotel  bus,  was  discussing 
politics  with  the  man  who  kept  the  restaurant,  and 
the  baggage  master,  superior  and  supremely  dirty, 
was  checking  baggage  with  his  almost  unendurably 
lordly  air. 

This  was  one  of  the  four  daily  rejuvenations  that 
gladdened  the  heart  of  Mount  Mark. 

A  man  in  a  black  business  suit  stood  alone  on 
the  platform,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  eyes  wan- 
dering from  one  to  another  of  the  strange  faces 
about  him.  His  plain  white  ready-made  tie  pro- 
claimed his  calling. 

"It's  the  new  Methodist  preacher,"  volunteered 
the  baggage  master,  crossing  the  platform,  ostensi- 
bly on  business  bound,  but  really  to  see  "who  all" 
was  there.  "I  know  him.  He's  not  a  bad  sort." 

"They  say  he's  got  five  kids,  and  most  of  'em 
girls,"  responded  the  Adams  Express  man.  "I've 
ordered  me  a  dress  suit  to  pay  my  respects  in  when 
they  get  here.  I  want  to  be  on  hand  early  to  pick 
me  out  a  girl." 

"Yah,"  mocked  the  telegraph  operator,  bobbing 
his  head  through  the  window,  "you  need  to.  They 


6  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

tell  me  every  girl  in  Mount  Mark  has  turned  you 
down  a'ready." 

But  the  Methodist  minister,  gazing  away  down 
the  track  where  a  thin  curl  of  smoke  announced  the 
coming  of  Number  Nine,  and  Prudence, — heard 
nothing  of  this  conversation.  He  was  not  a  hand- 
some man.  His  hair  was  gray  at  the  temples,  his 
face  was  earnest,  only  saved  from  severity  by  the 
little  clusters  of  lines  at  his  eyes  and  mouth  which 
proclaimed  that  he  laughed  often,  and  with  relish, 

"Train  going  east!" 

The  minister  stood  back  from  the  crowd,  but 
when  the  train  came  pounding  in  a  brightness  leaped 
into  his  eyes  that  entirely  changed  the  expression 
of  his  face.  A  slender  girl  stood  in  the  vestibule, 
leaning  dangerously  outward,  and  waving  wildly 
at  him  a  small  gloved  hand.  When  the  train 
stopped  she  leaped  lightly  from  the  steps,  ignoring 
the  stool  placed  for  her  feet  by  the  conductor. 

"Father!"  she  cried  excitedly  and  small  and 
slight  as  she  was,  she  elbowed  her  way  swiftly 
through  the  gaping  crowd.  "Oh,  father!"  And 
she  flung  her  arms  about  him  joyously,  unconscious 
of  the  admiring  eyes  of  the  Adams  Express  man, 
and  the  telegraph  operator,  and  old  Harvey  Reel, 


INTRODUCING  HER  7 

whose  eyes  were  always  admiring  when  girls  passed 
by.  She  did  not  even  observe  that  the  Slaughter- 
house Quartette  looked  at  her  unanimously,  with 
languid  interest  from  out  the  wreaths  of  smoke  they 
had  created. 

Her  father  kissed  her  warmly.  "Where  is  your 
baggage?"  he  asked,  a  hand  held  out  to  relieve  her. 

"Here!"  And  with  a  radiant  smile  she  thrust 
upon  him  a  box  of  candy  and  a  gaudy-covered  maga- 
zine. 

"Your  suit-case,"  he  explained  patiently. 

"Oh!"  she  gasped.  "Run,  father,  run  I  I  left  it 
on  the  train!" 

Father  did  run,  but  Prudence,  fleeter-footed,  out- 
distanced him  and  clambered  on  board,  panting. 

When  she  rejoined  her  father  her  face  was 
flushed.  "Oh,  father,"  she  said  quite  snappily, 
"isn't  that  just  like  me?" 

"Yes,  very  like,"  he  agreed,  and  he  smiled. 
"Where  is  your  umbrella?" 

Prudence  stopped  abruptly.  "I  don't  know,"  she 
said,  with  a  stony  face.  "I  can't  remember  a  blessed 
thing  about  the  old  umbrella.  Oh,  I  guess  I  didn't 
bring  it,  at  all."  She  breathed  long  in  her  relief. 
"Yes,  that's  it,  father,  I  left  it  at  Aunt  Grace's* 


8  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Don't  you  worry  about  it  Fairy'll  bring  it  to-mor- 
row. Isn't  it  nice  that  we  can  count  on  Fairy's 
remembering?" 

"Yes,  very  nice,"  he  said,  but  his  eyes  were  ten- 
der as  he  looked  down  at  the  little  figure  beside  him. 

"And  so  this  is  Mount  Mark!  Isn't  it  a  funny 
name,  father?  Why  do  they  call  it  Mount  Mark?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  hadn't  thought  to  inquire.  We 
turn  here,  Prudence ;  we  are  going  north  now.  This 
is  Main  Street.  The  city  part  of  the  town — the 
business  part — is  to  the  south." 

"It's  a  pretty  street,  isn't  it?"  she  cried.  "Such 
nice  big  maples,  and  such  shady,  porchy  houses.  I 
love  houses  with  porches,  don't  you?  Has  the  par- 
sonage a  porch?" 

"Yes,  a  big  one  on  the  south,  and  a  tiny  one  in 
front.  The  house  faces  west  That  is  the  college 
there.  It  opens  in  three  weeks,  and  Fairy  can  make 
freshmen  all  right,  they  tell  me.  I  wish  you  could 
go,  too.  You  haven't  had  your  share  of  anything 
—any  good  thing,  Prudence." 

"Well,  I  have  my  share  of  you,  father,"  she  said 
comfortingly.  "And  I've  always  had  my  share 
of  oatmeal  and  sorghum  molasses, — though  one 
wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at  me.  Fairy  gained  a 


INTRODUCING  HER  9 

whole  inch  last  week  at  Aunt  Grace's.  She  was  so 
disgusted  with  herself.  She  says  she'll  not  be  able 
to  look  back  on  the  visit  with  any  pleasure  at  all, 
just  because  of  that  inch.  Carol  said  she  ought  to 
look  back  with  more  pleasure,  because  there's  an 
inch  more  of  her  to  do  it!  But  Fairy  says  she  did 
not  gain  the  inch  in  her  eyes !  Aunt  Grace  laughed 
every  minute  we  were  there.  She  says  she  is  all 
sore  up  and  down,  from  laughing  so  much." 

"We  have  the  house  fixed  up  pretty  well,  Pru- 
dence, but  of  course  you'll  have  to  go  over  it  your- 
self and  arrange  it  as  you  like.  But  remember  this : 
You  are  not  allowed  to  move  the  heavy  furniture. 
I  forbid  it  emphatically.  There  isn't  enough  of  you 
for  that." 

"Yes,  I'll  remember, — I  think  I  will.  I'm  almost 
certain  to  remember  some  things,  you  know." 

"I  must  go  to  a  trustees'  meeting  at  two  o'clock, 
but  we  can  get  a  good  deal  done  before  then.  Mrs. 
Adams  is  coming  to  help  you  this  afternoon.  She 
is  one  of  our  Ladies,  and  very  kind.  There,  that 
is  the  parsonage!" 

Prudence  gazed  in  silence.  Many  would  not  have 
considered  it  a  beautiful  dwelling,  but  to  Prudence 
it  was  heavenly.  Fortunately  the  wide,  grassy, 


10     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

shaded  lawn  greeted  one  first.  Great  spreading 
maples  bordered  the  street,  and  clustering  rose- 
bushes lined  the  walk  leading  up  to  the  house.  The 
walk  was  badly  worn  and  broken  to  be  sure, — but 
'the  roses  were  lovely!  The  grass  had  been  care- 
fully cut, — the  father-minister  had  seen  to  that.  The 
parsonage,  to  Prudence's  gratified  eyes,  looked 
homey,  and  big,  and  inviting.  In  fact,  it  was  very 
nearly  gorgeous!  It  needed  painting  badly,  it  is 
true.  The  original  color  had  been  a  peculiar  drab, 
but  most  of  it  had  disappeared  long  before,  so  it 
was  no  eyesore  on  account  of  the  color.  There 
were  many  windows,  and  the  well-known  lace  cur- 
tains looked  down  upon  Prudence  tripping  happily 
up  the  little  board  walk, — or  so  it  seemed  to  her. 

"Two  whole  stories,  and  an  attic  besides!     Not 
to  mention  the  bathroom!     Oh,  father,  the  night 
after  you  wrote  there  was  a  bathroom,  Constance 
thanked  God  for  it  when  she  said  her  prayers.  And 
,1  couldn't  reprove  her,  for  I  felt  the  same  way 
'about  it  myself.     It'll  be  so  splendid  to  have  a 
whole  tub  to  bathe  in!    I  spent  half  the  time  bath- 
ing this  last  week  at  Aunt  Grace's.     A  tub  is  so 
bountiful!     A  pan  is  awfully  insufficient,   father, 
even  for  me!    I  often  think  what  a  trouble  it  must 


INTRODUCING  HER  n 

be  to  Fairy!  And  a  furnace,  too!  And  electric 
lights!  Don't  you  think  there  is  something  awe- 
inspiring  in  the  idea  of  just  turning  a  little  knob 
on  the  wall,  and  flooding  a  whole  room  with  light? 
I  do  revel  in  electric  lights,  I  tell  you.  Oh,  we  have 
waited  a  long  time  for  it,  and  we've  been  very  pa- 
tient indeed,  but,  between  you  and  me,  father,  I  am 
most  mightily  glad  we've  hit  the  luxury-land  at  last. 
I'm  sure  we'll  all  feel  much  more  religious  in  a 
parsonage  that  has  a  bathroom  and  electric  lights! 
Oh,  father!" 

He  had  thrown  open  the  door,  and  Prudence 
stood  upon  the  threshold  of  her  new  home.  It  was 
not  a  fashionable  building,  by  any  means.  The  hall 
was  narrow  and  long,  and  the  staircase  was  just  a 
plain  businesslike  staircase,  with  no  room  for  cush- 
ions, and  flowers,  and  books.  The  doors  leading 
from  the  hall  were  open,  and  Prudence  caught  a 
glimpse  of  three  rooms  furnished,  rather  scantily, 
in  the  old  familiar  furniture  that  had  been  in  that 
other  parsonage  where  Prudence  was  born,  nineteen 
years  before. 

Together  she  and  her  father  went  from  room  to 
room,  up-stairs  and  down,  moving  a  table  to  the  left, 
a  bed  to  the  right, — according  to  her  own  good 


12     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

pleasure.    Afterward  they  had  a  cozy  luncheon  for 
two  in  the  "dining-room." 

"Oh,  it  is  so  elegant  to  have  a  dining-room," 
breathed  Prudence  happily.  "I  always  pretended 
it  was  rather  fun,  and  a  great  saving  of  work,  to 
eat  and  cook  and  study  and  live  in  one  room,  but 
inwardly  the  idea  always  outraged  me.  Is  that  the 
school  over  there?" 

"Yes,  that's  where  Connie  will  go.  There  is  only 
one  high  school  in  Mount  Mark,  so  the  twins  will 
have  to  go  to  the  other  side  of  town, — a  long  walk, 
but  in  good  weather  they  can  come  home  for  din- 
ner.— I'm  afraid  the  kitchen  will  be  too  cold  in 
vrinter,  Prudence, — it's  hardly  more  than  a  shed, 

really.    Maybe  we'd " 

"Oh,  father,  if  you  love  me,  don't  suggest  that 
we  move  the  stove  in  here  in  winter !  I'm  perfectly 
willing  to  freeze  out  there,  for  the  sake  of  having  a 
dining-room.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  what  Carol  said 
about  that  kitchen-dining-room-living-room  combi- 
nation at  Exminster?  Well,  she  asked  us  a  riddle, 
'When  is  a  dining-room  not  a  dining-room?'  And 
she  answered  it  herself,  'When  it's  a  little  pig-pen,' 
And  I  felt  so  badly  about  it,  but  it  did  look  like  a 
pig-pen,  with  stove  here,  and  cupboard  there,  and 


INTRODUCING  HER  13 

table  yonder,  and — oh,  no,  father,  please  let  me 
freeze !" 

"I  confess  I  do  not  see  the  connection  between 
a  roomful  of  furniture  and  a  pig-pen,  but  Carol's 
wit  is  often  too  subtle  for  me." 

"Oh,  that's  a  lovely  place  over  there,  father!" 
exclaimed  Prudence,  looking  from  the  living-room 
windows  toward  the  south.  "Isn't  it  beautiful?" 

"Yes.  The  Avery  family  lives  there.  The  par- 
ents are  very  old  and  feeble,  and  the  daughters  are 
all — elderly — and  all  school-teachers.  There  are 
four  of  them,  and  the  youngest  is  forty-six.  It  is 
Certainly  a  beautiful  place.  See  the  orchard  out  be- 
hind, and  the  vineyard.  They  are  very  wealthy,  and 
they  are  not  fond  of  children  outside  of  school 
hours,  I  am  told,  so  we  must  keep  an  eye  on  Con- 
nie.— Dear  me,  it  is  two  o'clock  already,  and  I  must 
go  at  once.  Mrs.  Adams  will  be  here  in  a  few 
minutes,  and  you  will  not  be  lonely." 

But  when  Mrs.  Adams  arrived  at  the  parsonage, 
she  knocked  repeatedly,  and  in  vain,  upon  the  front 
door.  After  that  she  went  to  the  side  door,  with 
no  better  result.  Finally,  she  gathered  her  robes 
about  her  and  went  into  the  back  yard.  She  peered 
into  the  woodshed,  and  saw  no  one.  She  went  into 


14     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

the  bam-lot,  and  found  it  empty.    In  despair,  she 
plunged  into  the  barn— and  stopped  abruptly. 

In  a  shadowy  corner  was  a  slender  figure  kneel- 
ing beside  an  overturned  nail  keg,  her  face  buried 
in  her  hands.  Evidently  this  was  Prudence  engaged 
in  prayer, — and  in  the  barn,  of  all  places  in  the 
world ! 

"A — a — a — hem!"  stammered  Mrs.  Adams  in- 
quiringly. 

"Amen  I"  This  was  spoken  aloud  and  hurriedly, 
and  Prudence  leaped  to  her  feet.  Her  fair  hair 
clung  about  her  face  in  damp  babyish  tendrils,  and 
her  face  was  flushed  and  dusty,  but  alight  with 
friendly  interest  She  ran  forward  eagerly,  thrust- 
ing forth  a  slim  and  grimy  hand. 

"You  are  Mrs.  Adams,  aren't  you?  I  am  Pru- 
dence Starr.  It  is  so  kind  of  you  to  come  the  very 
first  day,"  she  cried.  "It  makes  me  love  you  right 
at  the  start" 

"Ye— yes,  I  am  Mrs.  Adams."  Mrs.  Adams  was 
embarrassed.  She  could  not  banish  from  her  men- 
tal vision  that  kneeling  figure  by  the  nail  keg.  In- 
terrogation was  written  all  over  her  ample  face,  and 
Prudence  promptly  read  it  and  hastened  to  reply. 
"I  do  not  generally  say  my  prayers  in  the  barn, 


INTRODUCING  HER  15 

Mrs.  Adams,  I  assure  you.  I  suppose  you  were 
greatly  surprised  I  didn't  expect  to  do  it  myself, 
when  I  came  out  here,  but — well,  when  I  found  this 
grand,  old,  rambling  barn,  I  was  so  thankful  I 
couldn't  resist  praying  about  it.  Of  course,  I  didn't 
specially  designate  the  barn,  but  God  knew  what  I 
meant,  I  am  sure." 

"But  a  barn!"  ejaculated  the  perplexed  "mem- 
ber." "Do  you  call  that  a  blessing?" 

"Yes,  indeed  I  do,"  declared  Prudence.  Then 
she  explained  patiently:  "Oh,  it  is  on  the  children's 
account,  you  know.  They  have  always  longed  for 
a  big  romantic  barn  to  play  in.  We've  never  had 
anything  but  a  shed,  and  when  father  went  to  Con- 
ference this  year,  the  twins  told  him  particularly  to 
look  out  for  a  good  big  barn.  They  said  we'd  be 
willing  to  put  up  with  any  kind  of  a  parsonage,  if 
only  we  might  draw  a  barn  for  once.  You  can't 
imagine  how  happy  this  dear  old  place  will  make 
them,  and  I  was  happy  on  their  account  That's 
why  I  couldn't  resist  saying  my  prayers, — I  was 
so  happy  I  couldn't  hold  in." 

As  they  walked  slowly  toward  the  house,  Mrs. 
Adams  looked  at  this  parsonage  girl  in  frank  curi- 
osity and  some  dismay,  which  she  strongly  endeav- 


16     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ored  to  conceal  from  the  bright-eyed  Prudence.  The 
Ladies  had  said  it  would  be  so  nice  to  have  a  grown 
girl  in  the  parsonage !  Prudence  was  nineteen  from 
all  account,  but  she  looked  like  a  child  and — well, 
it  was  not  exactly  grown-up  to  give  thanks  for  a 
barn,  to  say  the  very  least !  Yet  this  girl  had  full 
charge  of  four  younger  children,  and  was  further 
burdened  with  the  entire  care  of  a  minister-father ! 
Well,  well!  Mrs.  Adams  sighed  a  little. 

"You  are  tired,"  said  Prudence  sympathetically. 
"It's  so  hot  walking,  isn't  it  ?  Let's  sit  on  the  porch 
until  you  are  nicely  rested.  Isn't  this  a  lovely  yard  ? 
And  the  children  will  be  so  happy  to  have  this  de- 
licious big  porch.  Oh,  I  just  adore  Mount  Mark 
already." 

"This  is  a  fine  chance  for  us  to  get  acquainted," 
said  the  good  woman  with  eagerness. 

Now  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  there  had  been 
some  ill  feeling  in  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society  concern- 
ing the  reception  of  Prudence.  After  the  session 
of  Conference,  when  the  Reverend  Mr.  Starr 
was  assigned  to  Mount  Mark,  the  Ladies  of  the 
church  had  felt  great  interest  in  the  man  and  his 
family.  They  inquired  on  every  hand,  and  learned 
several  interesting  items.  The  mother  had  been 


INTRODUCING  HER  17 

taken  from  the  family  five  years  before,  after  a  long 
illness,  and  Prudence,  the  eldest  daughter,  had  taken 
charge  of  the  household.  There  were  five  children. 
So  much  was  known,  and  being  women,  they  looked 
forward  with  eager  curiosity  to  the  coming  of  Pru- 
dence, the  young  mistress  of  the  parsonage. 

Mr.  Starr  had  arrived  at  Mount  Mark  a  weeK 
ahead  of  his  family.  The  furniture  had  been  shipped 
from  his  previous  charge,  and  he,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  a  strong  and  willing  negro,  had  "placed  it" 
according  to  the  written  instructions  of  Prudence, 
who  had  conscientiously  outlined  just  what  should 
go  in  every  room.  She  and  the  other  children  had 
spent  the  week  visiting  at  the  home  of  their  aunt, 
and  Prudence  had  come  on  a  day  in  advance  of  the 
others  to  "wind  everything  up,"  as  she  had  ex- 
pressed it. 

But  to  return  to  the  Eadies, — the  parsonage  girls 
always  capitalized  the  Ladies  of  their  father's 
church,  and  indeed  italicized  them,  as  well.  And  the 
irrepressible  Carol  had  been  heard  to  remark,  "I 
often  feel  like  exclamation-pointing  them,  I  prom- 
ise you."  But  to  return  once  more. 

"One  of  us  should  go  and  help  the  dear  child," 
said  Mrs.  Scott,  the  president  of  the  Aids,  when 


18     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

they  assembled  for  their  business  meeting,  "help 
her,  and  welcome  her,  and  advise  her." 

"I  was  thinking  of  going  over,"  said  one,  and 
another,  and  several  others. 

"Oh,  that  will  not  do  at  all,"  said  the  president; 
"she  would  be  excited  meeting  so  many  strangers, 
and  could  not  properly  attend  to  her  work.  That 
will  never  do,  never,  never!  But  one  of  us  must 
go,  of  course." 

"I  move  that  the  president  appoint  a  committee 
of  one  to  help  Miss  Prudence  get  settled,  and  wel- 
come her  to  our  midst,"  said  Mrs.  Barnaby,  secretly 
hoping  that  in  respect  for  her  making  this  sugges- 
tion honoring  the  president,  the  president  would 
have  appreciation  enough  to  appoint  Mrs.  Barnaby; 
herself  as  committee. 

The  motion  was  seconded,  and  carried. 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Scott  slowly,  "I  think  in  a  case 
like  this  the  president  herself  should  represent  the 
society.  Therefore,  I  will  undertake  this  duty  for 
you." 

But  this  called  forth  a  storm  of  protest  and  it 
became  so  clamorous  that  it  was  unofficially  decided 
to  draw  cuts!  Which  was  done,  and  in  consequence 
of  that  drawing  of  cuts,  Mrs.  Adams  now  sat  on 


INTRODUCING  HER  19 

the  front  porch  of  the  old  gray  parsonage,  cheered 
by  the  knowledge  that  every  other  Lady  of  the  Aid 
was  envying  her! 

"Now,  just  be  real  sociable  and  tell  me  all  about 
yourself,  and  the  others,  too,"  urged  Mrs.  Adams. 
"I  want  to  know  all  about  every  one  of  you.  Tell 
me  everything." 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell,"  said  Prudence,  smiling. 
"There  are  five  of  us;  I  am  the  oldest,  I  am  nine- 
teen. Then  comes  Fairy,  then  the  twins,  and  then 
the  baby." 

"Are  the  twins  boys,  or  a  boy  and  a  girl  ?" 

"Neither,"  said  Prudence,  "they  are  both  girls." 

"More  girls!"  gasped  Mrs.  Adams.  "And  the 
baby?" 

"She  is  a  girl,  too."  And  Prudence  laughed. 
"In  short,  we  are  all  girls  except  father.  He 
couldn't  be,  of  course, — or  I  suppose  he  would,  for 
our  family  does  seem  to  run  to  girls." 

"Prudence  is  a  very  nice  name  for  a  minister's 
daughter,"  said  Mrs.  Adams  suggestively. 

"Yes, — for  some  ministers'  daughters,"  assented 
Prudence.  "But  is  sadly  unsuitable  for  me.  You 
see,  father  and  mother  were  very  enthusiastic  about 
the  first  baby  who  hadn't  arrived.  They  had  two 


20     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

names  all  picked  out  months  ahead,-Prudence  and 
John  Wesley.    That's  how  I  happen  to  be  Prudence. 
They  thought,  as  you  do,  that  it  was  an  uplifting 
name  for  a  parsonage  baby.— I  was  only  three  years 
old  when  Fairy  was  born,  but  already  they  realized 
that  they  had  made  a  great  mistake.     So  they  de- 
cided to  christen  baby  number  two  more  appropri- 
ately.   They  chose  Frank  and  Fairy,— both  light- 
hearted,  happy,  cheerful  names.— It's  Fairy."    Pru- 
dence smiled  reflectively.    "But  things  went  badly 
again.  They  were  very  unlucky  with  their  babies. 
Fairy  is  Prudence  by  nature,  and  I  am  Fairy.    She 
is  tall  and  a  little  inclined  to  be  fat.    She  is  steady, 
and  industrious,  and  reliable,   and   sensible,   and 
clever.    In  fact,  she  is  an  all-round  solid  and  worth- 
while girl.    She  can  do  anything,  and  do  it  right, 
and  is  going  to  be  a  college  professor.    It  is  a  sad 
thing  to  think  of  a  college  professor  being  called 
Fairy  all  her  life,  isn't  it?    Especially  when  she  is 
so  dignified  and  grand.    But  one  simply  can't  tell 
beforehand  what  to  expect,  can  one? 

"Father  and  mother  were  quite  discouraged  by 
that  time.  They  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  But  any- 
how they  were  sure  the  next  would  be  a  boy,  Every 
one  predicted  a  boy,  and  so  they  chose  a  good  old 


INTRODUCING  HER  21 

Methodist  name, — Charles.  They  hated  to  give  it 
John  Wesley,  for  they  had  sort  of  dedicated  that  to 
me,  you  know, — only  I  happened  to  be  Prudence. 
But  Charles  was  second-best.  And  they  were  very 
happy  about  it,  and — it  was  twin  girls !  It  was  quite 
a  blow,  I  guess.  But  they  rallied  swiftly,  and  called 
them  Carol  and  Lark.  Such  nice  musical  names! 
Father  and  mother  were  both  good  singers,  and 
mother  a  splendid  pianist.  And  Fairy  and  I  showed 
musical  symptoms  early  in  life,  so  they  thought  they 
couldn't  be  far  wrong  that  time.  It  was  a  bitter 
mistake.  It  seemed  to  turn  the  twins  against  music 
right  from  the  start  Carol  can  carry  a  tune  if? 
there's  a  strong  voice  beside  her,  but  Lark  can 
hardly  tell  the  difference  between  Star  Span- 
gled Banner  and  Rock  of  Ages. 

"The  neighbors  were  kind  of  amused  by  then,  and 
mother  was  very  sensitive  about  it.  So  the  next 
time  she  determined  to  get  ahead  of  Fate.  'No  more 
nonsense,  now,'  said  mother.  'It's  almost  certain  to 
be  a  boy,  and  we'll  call  him  William  after  father, — » 
and  Billy  for  short/  We  all  liked  the  name  Billy, 
mother  especially.  But  she  couldn't  call  father  any- 
thing but  William, — we  being  parsonage  people,  you 
know.  But  she  kept  looking  forward  to  little 


22     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Billy,— and  then  they  changed  it  in  a  hurry  to  Con- 
stance. And  after  that,  father  and  mother  gave  the 
whole  thing  up  as  a  bad  job.  There  aren't  any 
more  of  us.  Connie  settled  the  baby  business  in 
our  family." 

Mrs.  Adams  wiped  her  eyes,  and  leaned  weakly 
back  in  her  chair,  gasping  for  breath.  "Well,  I 
swan!"  was  all  she  could  say  at  that  moment. 

While  giving  herself  time  to  recover  her  mental 
poise  she  looked  critically  at  this  young  daughter  of 
the  parsonage.  Then  her  eyes  wandered  down  to 
her  clothes,  and  lingered,  in  silent  questioning,  on 
Prudence's  dress.  It  was  a  very  peculiar  color.  In 
fact,  it  was  no  color  at  all, — no  named  color.  Pru- 
'dence's  eyes  had  followed  Mrs.  Adams'  glance,  and 
she  spoke  frankly. 

"I  suppose  you're  wondering  if  this  dress  is  any 
color!  Well,  I  think  it  really  is,  but  it  isn't  any  of 
the  regular  shades.  It  is  my  own  invention,  but  I've 
never  named  it.  We  couldn't  think  of  anything 
appropriate.  Carol  suggested  'Prudence  Shade,' 
but  I  couldn't  bring  myself  to  accept  that.  Of 
course,  Mrs.  Adams,  you  understand  how  parson- 
age people  do  with  clothes,— handing  them  down 
from  generation  unto  generation.  Well,  I  didn't 


INTRODUCING  HER  23 

mind  it  at  first, — when  I  was  the  biggest.  But  all 
of  a  sudden  Fairy  grew  up  and  out  and  around,  and 
one  day  when  I  was  so  nearly  out  of  clothes  I  hardly 
felt  that  I  could  attend  church  any  more,  she  sug- 
gested that  I  cut  an  old  one  of  hers  down  for  me! 
At  first  I  laughed,  and  then  I  was  insulted.  Fairy 
is  three  years  younger  than  I,  and  before  then  she 
had  got  my  handed-downs.  But  now  the  tables 
were  turned.  From  that  time  on,  whenever  any- 
thing happened  to  Fairy's  clothes  so  a  gore  had  to 
be  cut  out,  or  the  bottom  taken  off, — they  were  cut 
down  for  me.  I  still  feel  bitter  about  it.  Fairy  is 
dark,  and  dark  blues  are  becoming  to  her.  She 
handed  down  this  dress, — it  was  dark  blue  then. 
But  I  was  not  wanting  a  dark  blue,  and  I  thought  it 
would  be  less  recognizable  if  I  gave  it  a  contrast- 
ing color.  I  chose  lavender.  I  dyed  it  four  times, 
and  this  was  the  result." 

"Do  the  twins  dress  alike  ?"  inquired  Mrs.  Adams, 
when  she  could  control  her  voice. 

"Yes, — unfortunately  for  Connie.  They  do  it  on 
purpose  to  escape  the  handed-downs!  They  won't 
even  have  hair  ribbons  different.  And  the  result 
is  that  poor  Connie  never  gets  one  new  thing  except 
shoes.  She  says  she  can  not  help  thanking  the  Lord 


24     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

in  her  prayers,  that  all  of  us  outwear  our  shoes 
before  we  can  outgrow  them.— Connie  is  only  nine. 
Fairy  is  sixteen,  and  the  twins  are  thirteen.    They 
are  a  very  clever  lot  of  girls.    Fairy,  as  I  told  you, 
is  just  naturally  smart,  and  aims  to  be  a  college 
professor.    Lark  is  an  intelligent  studious  girl,  and 
is  going  to  be  an  author.     Carol  is  pretty,  and 
lovable,  and  kind-hearted,  and  witty,— but  not  deep. 
She  is  going  to  be  a  Red  Cross  nurse  and  go  to 
war.    The  twins  have  it  all  planned  out.    Carol  is 
going  to  war  as  a  Red  Cross  nurse,  and  Lark  is  go- 
ing, too,  so  she  can  write  a  book  about  it,  and  they 
are  both  going  to  marry  soldiers, — preferably  dash- 
ing young  generals !    Now  they  can  hardly  wait  for 
war  to  break  out    Connie  is  a  sober,  odd,  sensitive 
little  thing,  and  hasn't  decided  whether  she  wants 
to  be  a  foreign  missionary,  or  get  married  and  have 
ten  children. — But  they  are  all  clever,  and  I'm  proud 
of  every  one  of  them." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  be?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Adams,  looking  with  real  affection  at  the  bright 
sweet  face. 

But  Prudence  laughed.  "Oh,  dear  me,  Mrs. 
Adams,  seems  to  me  if  I  just  get  the  others  raised 
up  properly,  I'll  have  my  hands  full.  I  used  to 


INTRODUCING  HER  25 

have  aims,  dozens  of  them.  Now  I  have  just  one, 
and  I'm  working  at  it  every  day." 

"You  ought  to  go  to  school,"  declared  Mrs. 
Adams.  "You're  just  a  girl  yourself." 

"I  don't  want  to  go  to  school,"  laughed  Prudence. 
"Not  any  more.  I  like  it,  just  taking  care  of  father 
and  the  girls, — with  Fairy  to  keep  me  balanced !  I 
read,  but  I  do  not  like  to  study. — No,  you'll  have 
to  get  along  with  me  just  the  way  I  am,  Mrs.  Adams. 
It's  all  I  can  do  to  keep  things  going  now,  without 
spending  half  the  time  dreaming  of  big  things  to 
do  in  the  future." 

"Don't  you  have  dreams?"  gasped  Mrs.  Adams. 
"Don't  you  have  dreams  of  the  future?  Girls  in 
books  nowadays  dream " 

"Yes,  I  dream,"  interrupted  Prudence,  "I  dream 
lots, — but  it's  mostly  of  what  Fairy  and  the  others 
will  do  when  I  get  them  properly  raised.  You'll 
like  the  girls,  Mrs.  Adams,  I  know  you  will.  They 
really  are  a  gifted  little  bunch, — except  me.  But  I 
don't  mind.  It's  a  great  honor  for  me  to  have  the 
privilege  of  bringing  up  four  clever  girls  to  do  great 
things, — don't  you  think?  And  I'm  only  nineteen 
myself!  I  don't  see  what  more  a  body  could  want." 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Adams,  "that  I  know 


26     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

more  about  your  sisters  than  I  do  about  you.  I 
feel  more"  acquainted  with  them  right  now,  than 
with  you." 

"That's  so,  too,"  said  Prudence,  nodding.  "But 
they  are  the  ones  that  really  count,  you  know. 
I'm  just  common  little  Prudence  of  the  Parsonage, — 
but  the  others !"  And  Prudence  flung  out  her  hands 
dramatically. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  REST   OF  THE   FAMILY 

IT  was  Saturday  morning  when  the  four  young 
parsonage  girls  arrived  in  Mount  Mark.  The 
elderly  Misses  Avery,  next  door,  looked  out  of  their 
windows,  pending  their  appearance  on  Main  Street, 
with  interest  and  concern.  It  was  a  serious  matter, 
this  having  a  whole  parsonage-full  of  young  girls 
so  close  to  the  old  Avery  mansion.  To  be  sure,  the 
Averys  had  a  deep  and  profound  respect  for  minis- 
terial households,  but  they  were  Episcopalians  them- 
selves, and  in  all  their  long  lives  they  had  never  so 
much  as  heard  of  a  widower-rector  with  five  daugh- 
ters, and  no  housekeeper.  There  was  something 
blood-curdling  in  the  bare  idea. 

The  Misses  Avery  considered  Prudence  herself 
rather  a  sweet,  silly  little  thing. 

"You  have  some  real  nice  people  in  the  Metho- 
dist church,"  Miss  Dora  had  told  her.  "I  dare  say 
you  will  find  a  few  of  them  very  likeable." 

27 


28     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  I  will  like  them  all,"  said  Prudence  quickly 
and  seriously. 

"Like  them  all!"  echoed  Miss  Dora.  "Oh,  impos- 
sible!" 

"Not  for  us,"  said  Prudence.  "We  are  used  to 
it,  you  know.  We  always  like  people." 

"That  is  ridiculous,"  said  Miss  Dora.  "It  is  ab- 
solutely impossible.  One  can't!  Of  course,  as 
Christians,  we  must  tolerate,  and  try  to  help  every 
one.  But  Christian  tolerance  and  love  are " 

"Oh,  excuse  me,  but — really  I  can't  believe  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  Christian  tolerance,"  said  Pru- 
dence firmly.  "There  is  Christian  love,  and — that 
is  all  we  need."  Then  leaning  forward:  "What  do 
you  do,  Miss  Avery,  when  you  meet  people  you  dis- 
like at  very  first  sight?" 

"Keep  away  from  them,"  was  the  grim  reply. 

"Exactly!  And  keep  on  disliking  them,"  said 
Prudence  triumphantly.  "It's  very  different  with 
us.  When  we  dislike  people  at  first  sight,  we  visit 
them,  and  talk  to  them,  and  invite  them  to  the  par- 
sonage, and  entertain  them  with  our  best  linen  and 
silverware,  and  keep  on  getting  friendlier  and  friend- 
lier, and—first  thing  you  know,  we  like  them  fine ! 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  29 

It's  a  perfectly  splendid  rule,  and  it  has  never  failed 
us  once.  Try  it,  Miss  Avery,  do!  You  will  be 
enthusiastic  about  it,  I  know." 

So  the  Misses  Avery  concluded  that  Prudence 
was  very  young,  and  couldn't  seem  to  quite  outgrow 
it!  She  was  not  entirely  responsible.  And  they 
wondered,  with  something  akin  to  an  agony  of 
fear,  if  the  younger  girls  "had  it,  too!"  Therefore 
the  Misses  Avery  kept  watch  at  their  respective 
windows,  and  when  Miss  Alice  cried  excitedly, 
"Quick!  Quick!  They  are  coming!"  they  trooped 
to  Miss  Alice's  window  with  a  speed  that  would 
have  done  credit  to  the  parsonage  girls  themselves. 

First  came  the  minister,  whom  they  knew  very 
well  by  this  time,  and  considered  quite  respect- 
able. He  was  lively,  as  was  to  be  expected 
of  a  Methodist  minister,  and  told  jokes,  and  laughed 
at  them!  Now,  a  comical  rector, — oh,  a  very  dif- 
ferent matter, — it  wasn't  done,  that's  all!  At  any 
rate,  here  came  the  Methodist  minister,  laughing, 
and  on  one  side  of  him  tripped  a  small  earnest- 
looking  maiden,  clasping  his  hand,  and  gazing  alter- 
nately up  into  his  face,  and  down  at  the  stylish 
cement  sidewalk  beneath  her  feet.  On  the  other 


30     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

side,  was  Fairy.  The  Misses  Avery  knew  the  girls 
by  name  already,— having  talked  much  with  Pru- 
dence. 

"Such  a  Fairy!"  gasped  Miss  Millicent,  and  the 
others  echoed  the  gasp,  but  wordlessly. 

For  Fairy  for  very  nearly  as  tall  as  her  father, 
built  upon  generous  lines,  rather  commanding  in 
appearance,  a  little  splendid-looking.  Even  from 
their  windows  they  could  discern  something  dis- 
tinctly Juno-like  in  this  sixteen-year-old  girl,  with 
the  easy  elastic  stride  that  matched  her  father's,  and 
the  graceful  head,  well  carried.  A  young  god- 
dess,— named  Fairy! 

Behind  them,  laughing  and  chattering,  like  three 
children,  as  they  were, — came  the  twins  with  Pru- 
dence, each  with  an  arm  around  her  waist.  And 
Prudence  was  very  little  taller  than  they.  When 
they  reached  the  fence  that  bordered  the  parsonage, 
the  scene  for  a  moment  resembled  a  miniature  riot. 
The  smaller  girls  jumped  and  exclaimed,  and 
clasped  their  hands.  Fairy  leaned  over  the  fence, 
and  stared  intently  at  this,  their  parsonage  home. 
Then  the  serious  little  girl  scrambled  under  the 
fence,  followed  closely  by  the  lithe-limbed  twins. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  31 

A  pause,  a  very  short  one, — and  then  Prudence, 
too,  was  wriggling  beneath  the  fence. 

"Hold  the  wire  up  for  me,  papa,"  cried  Fairy, 
"I'm  too  fat."  And  a  second  later  she  was  running 
gracefully  across  the  lawn  toward  the  parsonage. 
The  Methodist  minister  laughed  boyishly,  and  plac- 
ing his  hands  on  the  fence-post,  he  vaulted  lightly 
over,  and  reached  the  house  with  his  daughters. 
Then  the  Misses  Avery,  school-teachers,  and  eld- 
erly, looked  at  one  another. 

"Did  you  ever?"  whispered  the  oldest  Miss 
Avery,  and  the  others  slowly  shook  their  heads. 

Now,  think!  Did  you  ever  see  a  rector  jumping 
a  three-wire  fence,  and  running  full  speed  across 
his  front  yard,  in  pursuit  of  a  flying  family?  It 
may  possibly  have  occurred, — we  have  never  seen 
it.  Neither  had  the  Misses  Avery.  Nor  did  they 
ever  expect  to.  And  if  they  had  seen  it,  it  is  quite 
likely  they  would  have  joined  the  backsliders  at  that 
instant. 

But  without  wasting  much  time  on  this  gruesome 
thought,  they  hurried  to  a  window  commanding  the 
best  view  of  the  parsonage,  and  raised  it.  Then 
they  clustered  behind  the  curtains,  and  watched, 


32     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

and  listened.  There  was  plenty  to  hear!  From 
the  parsonage  windows  came  the  sound  of  scamper- 
ing feet  and  banging  doors.  Once  there  was  the 
unmistakable  clatter  of  a  chair  overturned.  With 
it  all,  there  was  a  constant  chorus  of  "Oh,  look!" 
"Oh!  Oh!"  "Oh,  how  sweet!"  "Oh,  papa!" 
"Oh,  Prudence !"  "Look,  Larkie,  look  at  this !" 

Then  the  thud  of  many  feet  speeding  down  the 
stairs,  and  the  slam  of  a  door,  and  the  slam  of  a 
gate.  The  whole  parsonage-full  had  poured  out  into 
the  back  yard,  and  the  barn-lot.  Into  the  chicken 
coop  they  raced,  the  minister  ever  close  upon  their 
heels.  Over  the  board  fence  they  clambered  to  the 
big  rambling  barn,  and  the  wide  door  swung  closed 
after  them.  But  in  a  few  seconds  they  were  out 
once  more,  by  the  back  barn  door,  and  over  the 
fence,  and  on  to  the  "field."  There  they  closed 
ranks,  with  their  arms  recklessly  around  whoever 
was  nearest,  and  made  a  thorough  tour  of  the  bit 
of  pasture-land.  For  some  moments  they  leaned 
upon  the  dividing  fence  and  gazed  admiringly  into 
the  rich  orchard  and  vineyard  of  the  Avery  estate. 
But  soon  they  were  skipping  back  to  the  parsonage 
again,  and  the  kitchen  door  banged  behind  them. 

Then  the  eldest  Miss  Avery  closed  the  window 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  33 

overlooking  the  parsonage  and  confronted  her  sis- 
ters. 

"We  must  just  make  the  best  of  it,"  she  said 
quietly. 

But  next  door,  the  gray  old  ugly  parsonage  was 
full  to  overflowing  with  satisfaction  and  happiness 
and  love. 

The  Starrs  had  never  had  an  appointment  like  this 
before.  They  had  just  come  from  the  village  of 
Exminster,  of  five  hundred  inhabitants.  There  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Starr  had  filled  the  pulpits  of  three 
small  Methodist  churches,  scattered  at  random 
throughout  the  country, — consideration,  five  hun- 
dred dollars.  But  here, — why,  Mount  Mark  had  a 
population  of  fully  three  thousand,  and  a  business 
academy,  and  the  Presbyterian  College, — small,  to 
be  sure,  but  the  name  had  a  grand  and  inspiring 
sound.  And  Mr.  Starr  had  to  fill  only  one  pulpit !  It 
was  heavenly,  that's  what  it  was.  To  be  sure,  many 
of  his  people  lived  out  in  the  country,  necessitating 
the  upkeep  of  a  horse  for  the  sake  of  his  pastoral 
work,  but  that  was  only  an  advantage.  Also  to  be 
sure,  the  Methodists  in  Mount  Mark  were  in  a  mi- 
nority, and  an  inferiority, — Mount  Mark  being  a 
Presbyterian  stronghold  due  to  the  homing  there  of 


34      PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

the  trim  and  orderly  little  college.  But  what  of 
that  ?  The  salary  was  six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
and  the  parsonage  was  adorable!  The  parsonage 
family  could  see  nothing  at  all  wrong  with  the 
world  that  day,  and  the  future  was  rainbow-tinted. 

Every  one  has  experienced  the  ecstatic  creepy 
sensation  of  sleeping  in  a  brand-new  home.  The 
parsonage  girls  reveled  in  the  memory  of  that  first 
night  for  many  days.  "It  may  be  haunted  for  all  we 
know,"  cried  Carol  deliciously.  "Just  think,  Con- 
nie, there  may  be  seven  ghosts  camped  on  the 
head  of  your  bed,  waiting " 

"Carol!" 

When  the  family  gathered  for  worship  on  that 
first  Sabbath  morning,  Mr.  Starr  said,  as  he  turned 
the  leaves  of  his  well-worn  Bible,  "I  think  it  would 
be  well  for  you  girls  to  help  with  the  morning 
worship  now.  You  need  practise  in  praying  aloud, 
and— so  we  will  begin  to-day.  Connie  and  I  will 
make  the  prayers  this  morning,  Prudence  and  Carol 
to-morrow,  and  Fairy  and  Lark  the  next  day.  We 
will  keep  that  system  up  for  a  while,  anyhow.  When 
I  finish  reading  the  chapter,  Connie,  you  will  make 
the  first  prayer.  Just  pray  for  whatever  you  wish 
as  you  do  at  night  for  yourself.  I  will  follow  you." 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  35 

Connie's  eyes  were  wide  with  responsibility  dur- 
ing the  reading  of  the  chapter,  but  when  she  began 
to  speak  her  voice  did  not  falter.  Connie  had  nine 
years  of  good  Methodist  experience  back  of  her ! 

"Our  Father,  who  art  in  Heaven,  we  bow  our- 
selves before  Thy  footstool  in  humility  and  rever- 
ence. Thou  art  our  God,  our  Creator,  our  Saviour. 
Bless  us  this  day,  and  cause  Thy  face  to  shine  upon 
us.  Blot  out  our  transgressions,  pardon  our  tres- 
passes. Wash  us,  that  we  may  be  whiter  than 
snow.  Hide  not  Thy  face  from  the  eyes  of  Thy 
children,  turn  not  upon  us  in  wrath.  Pity  us,  Lord, 
as  we  kneel  here  prostrate  before  Thy  majesty  and 
glory.  Let  the  words  of  our  mouths  and  the  medi- 
tations of  our  hearts,  be  acceptable  in  Thy  sight, 
O  Lord,  our  strength  and  our  Redeemer.  And 
finally  save  us,  an  unbroken  family  around 
Thy  throne  in  Heaven,  for  Jesus'  sake.  Amen." 

This  was  followed  by  an  electric  silence.  Pru- 
dence was  biting  her  lips  painfully,  and  counting 
by  tens  as  fast  as  she  could.  Fairy  was  mentally 
going  over  the  prayer,  sentence  by  sentence,  and 
attributing  each  petition  to  the  individual  member 
in  the  old  church  at  Exminster  to  whom  it  belonged. 
The  twins  were  a  little  amazed,  and  quite  proud 


36     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Connie  was  an  honor  to  the  parsonage, — but  they 
were  concerned  lest  they  themselves  should  do  not 
quite  so  well  when  their  days  came. 

But  in  less  than  a  moment  the  minister- father 
began  his  prayer.  His  voice  was  a  little  subdued, 
and  he  prayed  with  less  fervor  and  abandon  than 
usual,  but  otherwise  things  went  off  quite  nicely. 
When  he  said,  "Amen,"  Prudence  was  on  her  feet 
and  half-way  up-stairs  before  the  others  were  fairly 
risen.  Fairy  stood  gazing  intently  out  of  the  win- 
dow for  a  moment,  and  then  went  out  to  the  barn 
to  see  if  the  horse  was  through  eating.  Mr.  Starr 
walked  gravely  and  soberly  out  the  front  door, 
and  around  the  house.  He  ran  into  Fairy  coming 
out  the  kitchen  door,  and  they  glanced  quickly 
at  each  other. 

"Hurry,  papa,"  she  whispered,  "you  can't  hold  in 
much  longer!  Neither  can  I !" 

And  together,  choking  with  laughter,  they  hur- 
ried into  the  barn  and  gave  full  vent  to  their  feel- 
ings. 

So  it  was  that  the  twins  and  Connie  were  alone 
for  a  while. 

"You  did  a  pretty  good  job,  Connie,"  said  Carol 
approvingly. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  37 

"Yes.  I  think  I  did  myself,"  was  the  complacent 
answer.  "But  I  intended  to  put  in,  'Keep  us  as 
the  apple  of  Thy  eye,  hold  us  in  the  hollow  of  Thy 
hand,'  and  I  forgot  it  until  I  had  said  'Amen.'  I 
had  a  notion  to  put  in  a  post-script,  but  I  believe 
that  isn't  done." 

"Never  mind,"  said  Carol,  "I'll  use  that  in  mine, 
to-morrow." 

It  can  not  be  said  that  this  form  of  family  wor- 
ship was  a  great  success.  The  twins  were  invariably 
stereotyped,  cut  and  dried.  They  thanked  the  Lord 
for  the  beautiful  morning,  for  kind  friends,  for 
health,  and  family,  and  parsonage.  Connie  always 
prayed  in  sentences  extracted  from  the  prayers  of 
others  she  had  often  heard,  and  every  time  with 
nearly  disastrous  effect. 

But  the  days  passed  around,  and  Prudence  and 
Carol's  turn  came  again.  Carol  was  a  thoughtless, 
impetuous,  impulsive  girl,  and  her  prayers  were  as 
nearly  "verbal  repetitions"  as  any  prayers  could  be, 
So  on  this  morning,  after  the  reading  of  the  chap- 
ter, Carol  knelt  by  her  chair,  and  began  in  her  cus- 
tomary solemn  voice: 

"Oh,  our  Father,  we  thank  Thee  for  this  beauti- 
ful morning."  Then  intense  silence.  For  Carol 


38     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

remembered  with  horror  and  shame  that  it  was  a 
dreary,  dismal  morning,  cloudy,  ugly  and  all  un- 
lovely. In  her  despair,  the  rest  of  her  petition  scat- 
tered to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  She  couldn't 
think  of  another  word,  so  she  gulped,  and  stam- 
mered out  a  faint  "Amen." 

But  Prudence  could  not  begin.  Prudence  was 
red  in  the  face,  and  nearly  suffocated.  She  felt  all 
swollen  inside, — she  couldn't  speak.  The  silence 
continued.  "Oh,  why  doesn't  father  do  it?"  she 
wondered.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  father  couldn't. 
But  Prudence  did  not  know  that  One  who  laughs 
often  gets  in  the  habit  of  laughter, — and  sometimes 
laughs  out  of  season,  as  well  as  in.  Finally,  Pru- 
dence plunged  in  desperately,  "Dear  Father" — as 
she  usually  began  her  sweet,  intimate  little  talks 
with  God, — and  then  she  paused.  Before  her  eyes 
flashed  a  picture  of  the  "beautiful  morning,"  for 
which  Carol  had  just  been  thankful!  She  tried 
again.  "Dear  Father," — and  then  she  whirled 
around  on  the  floor,  and  laughed.  Mr.  Starr  got 
up  from  his  knees,  sat  down  on  his  chair,  and  liter- 
ally shook.  Fairy  rolled  on  the  lounge,  screaming 
with  merriment.  Even  sober  little  Connie  giggled 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  39 

and  squealed.  But  Carol  could  not  get  up.  She 
was  disgraced.  She  had  done  a  horrible,  disgusting, 
idiotic  thing.  She  had  insulted  God!  She  could 
never  face  the  family  again.  Her  shoulders  rose, 
and  fell  convulsively. 

Lark  did  not  laugh  either.  With  a  rush  she  was 
on  her  knees  beside  Carol,  her  arms  around  the 
heaving  shoulders.  "Don't  you  care,  Carrie,"  she 
whispered.  "Don't  you  care.  It  was  just  a  mis- 
take,— don't  cry,  Carrie." 

But  Carol  would  not  be  comforted.  She  tried 
to  sneak  unobserved  from  the  room,  but  her  father 
stopped  her. 

"Don't  feel  so  badly  about  it,  Carol,"  he  said 
kindly,  really  sorry  for  the  stricken  child, — -though 
his  eyes  still  twinkled,  "it  was  just  a  mistake.  But 
remember  after  this,  my  child,  to  speak  to  God  when 
you  pray.  Remember  that  you  are  talking  to  Him. 
Then  you  will  not  make  such  a  blunder. — So  many 
of  us,"  he  said  reflectively,  "ministers  as  well  as 
others,  pray  into  the  ears  of  the  people,  and  forget 
we  are  talking  to  God." 

After  that,  the  morning  worship  went  better. 
The  prayers  of  the  children  changed, — became  more 


40     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

personal,  less  flowery.  They  remembered  from 
that  time  on,  that  when  they  knelt  they  were  at 
the  feet  of  God,  and  speaking  direct  to  Him. 

It  was  the  hated  duty  of  the  twins  to  wash  and 
dry  the  dishes,— taking  turns  about  with  the  wash- 
ing. This  time  was  always  given  up  to  story-tell- 
ing, for  Lark  had  a  strange  and  wonderful  imag- 
ination, and  Carol  listened  to  her  tales  with  wonder 
and  delight.  Even  Connie  found  dish-doing 
hours  irresistible,  and  could  invariably  be  found, 
face  in  her  hands,  both  elbows  on  the  table,  gazing 
with  passionate  earnestness  at  the  young  story- 
teller. Now,  some  of  Lark's  stories  were  such 
weird  and  fearful  things  that  they  had  seriously  in- 
terfered with  Connie's  slumbers,  and  Prudence  had 
sternly  prohibited  them.  But  this  evening,  just  as 
she  opened  the  kitchen  door,  she  heard  Lark  say  in 
thrilling  tones: 

"She  crept  down  the  stairs  in  the  deep  darkness, 
her  hand  sliding  lightly  over  the  rail.  Suddenly  she 
stopped.  Her  hand  was  arrested  in  its  movement. 
Ice-cold  fingers  gripped  hers  tightly.  Then  with 
one  piercing  shriek,  she  plunged  forward,  and  fell 
to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs  with  a  terrific  crash, 
while  a  mocking  laugh " 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  41 

The  kitchen  door  slammed  sharply  behind  Pru- 
dence as  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen,  and  Connie's 
piercing  shriek  would  surely  have  rivaled  that  of 
Lark's  unfortunate  heroine.  Even  Carol  started 
nervously,  and  let  the  plate  she  had  been  solemnly 
wiping  for  nine  minutes,  fall  to  the  floor.  Lark 
gasped,  and  then  began  sheepishly  washing  dishes 
as  though  her  life  depended  on  it.  The  water  was 
cold,  and  little  masses  of  grease  clung  to  the  edges 
of  the  pan  and  floated  about  on  the  surface  of  the 
water. 

"Get  fresh  hot  water,  Lark,  and  finish  the  dishes. 
Connie,  go  right  up-stairs  to  bed.  You  twins  can 
come  in  to  me  as  soon  as  you  finish." 

But  Connie  was  afraid  to  go  to  bed  alone,  and 
Prudence  was  obliged  to  accompany  her.  So  it  was 
in  their  own  room  that  the  twins  finally  faced  an 
indignant  Prudence. 

"Carol,  you  may  go  right  straight  to  bed.  And 
Lark — I  do  not  know  what  in  the  world  to  do  with 
you.  Why  don't  you  mind  me,  and  do  as  I  tell 
you-?  How  many  times  have  I  told  you  not  to  tell 
weird  stories  like  that?  Can't  you  tell  nice,  inter- 
esting, mild  stories?" 

"Prudence,  as  sure  as  you  live,  I  can't!    I  start 


42     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

them  just  as  mild  and  proper  as  can  be,  but  before  I 
get  half-way  through,  a  murder,  or  death,  or  mys- 
tery crops  in,  and  I  can't  help  it" 

"But  you  must  help  it,  Lark.  Or  I  shall  forbid 
your  telling  stories  of  any  kind.  They  are  so  silly, 
those  wild  things,  and  they  make  you  all  nervous, 
and  excitable,  and —  Now,  think,  Larkie,  and  tell 
me  how  I  shall  punish  you." 

Lark  applied  all  the  resources  of  her  wonderful 
brain  to  this  task,  and  presently  suggested  reluct- 
antly: "Well,  you  might  keep  me  home  from  the 
ice-cream  social  to-morrow  night."  But  her  face 
was  wistful. 

"No,"  said  Prudence  decidedly,  to  Lark's  intense 
relief.  "I  can't  do  that  You've  been  looking  for- 
ward to  it  so  long,  and  your  class  is  to  help  with 
the  serving.  No,  not  that,  Larkie.  That  would  be 
too  mean.  Think  of  something  el'se." 

"Well, — you  might  make  me  wash  and  dry  the 

^ 'dishes  all  alone — for  a  week,  Prudence,  and  that 

will  be  a  bad  punishment,  too,  for  I  just  despise 

washing  dishes  by  myself.    Telling  stories  makes 

it  so  much — livelier." 

"All  right,  then,"  said  Prudence,  relieved  in  turn. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  43 

"that  is  what  I  will  do.  And  Carol  and  Connie 
must  not  even  stay  in  the  kitchen  with  you." 

"I  believe  I'll  go  to  bed  now,  too,"  said  Lark, 
with  a  thoughtful  glance  at  her  two  sisters,  already 
curled  up  snugly  and  waiting  for  the  conclusion  of 
the  administering  of  justice.  "If  you  don't  mind, 
Prudence." 

Prudence  smiled  a  bit  ruefully.  "Oh,  I  suppose 
you  might  as  well,  if  you  like.  But  remember  this, 
Lark:  No  more  deaths,  and  murders,  and  mys- 
teries, and  highway  robberies." 

"All  right,  Prudence,"  said  Lark  with  determina- 
tion. And  as  Prudence  walked  slowly  down-stairs 
she  heard  Lark  starting  in  on  her  next  story: 

"Once  there  was  a  handsome  young  man,  named 
Archibald  Tremaine, — a  very  respectable  young 
fellow.  He  wouldn't  so  much  as  dream  of  robbing, 
or  murdering,  or  dying." 

Then  Prudence  smiled  to  herself  in  the  dark  and 
hurried  down. 

The  family  had  been  in  the  new  parsonage  only 
three  weeks,  when  a  visiting  minister  called  on 
them.  It  was  about  ten  minutes  before  the  lunch- 
eon hour  at  the  time  of  his  arrival.  Mr.  Starr  was 


44     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

in  the  country,  visiting,  so  the  girls  received  him 
alone.    It  was  an  unfortunate  day  for  the  Starrs. 
Fairy  had  been  at  college  all  morning,  and  Prudence 
had  been  rummaging  in  the  attic,  getting  it  ready, 
for  a   rainy-day   and   winter   playroom    for    the 
younger  girls.    She  was  dusty,  perspirey  and  tired. 
The  luncheon  hour  arrived,  and  the  girls  came 
in  from  school,  eager  to  be  up  and  away  again. 
Still  the  grave  young  minister  sat  discoursing  upon 
serious  topics  with  the  fidgety  Prudence, — and  in 
spite  of  dust  and  perspiration,  she  was  good  to 
look  upon.     The  Reverend  Mr.  Morgan  realized 
tliat,  and  could  not  tear  himself  away.     The  twins 
came  in,  shook  hands  with  him  soberly,  glancing 
significantly  at  the  clock  as  they  did  so.     Connie 
ran  in  excitedly,  wanting  to  know  what  was  the 
matter  with  everybody,  and  weren't  they  to  have 
any  luncheon?    Still  Mr.  Morgan  remained  in  his 
chair,  gazing  at  Prudence  with  frank  appreciation. 
Finally  Prudence  sighed. 
"Do  you  like  sweet  corn,  Mr.  Morgan?" 
This  was  entirely  out  of  the  line  of  their  conver- 
sation, and  for  a  moment  he  faltered.     "Sweet 
com?"  he  repeated. 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  45 

"Yes,  roasting-ears,  you  know, — cooked  on  the 
cob." 

Then  he  smiled.  "Oh,  yes  indeed.  Very  much," 
he  said. 

"Well,"  she  began  her  explanation  rather  drear- 
ily, "I  was  busy  this  morning  and  did  not  prepare 
much  luncheon.  We  are  very  fond  of  sweet  corn, 
and  I  cooked  an  enormous  panful.  But  that's  all 
we  have  for  luncheon, — sweet  corn  and  butter.  We 
haven't  even  bread,  because  I  am  going  to  bake  this 
afternoon,  and  we  never  eat  it  with  sweet  corn,  any- 
how. Now,  if  you  care  to  eat  sweet  corn  and  but- 
ter, and  canned  peaches,  we'd  just  love  to  have  you 
stay  for  luncheon  with  us." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Morgan  was  charmed,  and  said 
so.  So  Prudence  rushed  to  the  kitchen,  opened  the 
peaches  in  a  hurry,  and  fished  out  a  clean  napkin 
for  their  guest.  Then  they  gathered  about  the  table, 
five  girls  and  the  visiting  minister.  It  was  really 
a  curious  sight,  that  table.  In  the  center  st»od  a 
tall  vase  of  goldenrod.  On  either  side  of  the 
vase  was  a  great  platter  piled  high  with  sweet  corn, 
on  the  cob !  Around  the  table  were  six  plates,  with 
the  necessary  silverware,  and  a  glass  of  water  for 


46     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

each.  There  was  also  a  small  dish  of  peaches  at 
each  place,  and  an  individual  plate  of  butter.  That 
was  all, — except  the  napkins.  But  Prudence  made 
no  apologies.  She  was  a  daughter  of  the  parson- 
age! She  showed  the  Reverend  Mr.  Morgan  to 
his  place  as  graciously  and  sweetly  as  though  she 
were  ushering  him  in  to  a  twenty-seven  course  ban- 
quet 

"Will  you  return  thanks,  Mr.  Morgan?"  she  said. 

And  the  girls  bowed  their  heads.  The  Reverend 
Mr.  Morgan  cleared  his  throat,  and  began,  "Our 
Father,  we  thank  Thee  for  this  table." 

There  was  more  of  the  blessing,  but  the  parson- 
age girls  heard  not  one  additional  phrase, — except 
Connie,  who  followed  him  conscientiously  through 
every  word.  By  the  time  he  had  finished,  Prudence 
and  Fairy,  and  even  Lark,  had  composed  their 
faces.  But  Carol  burst  into  merry  laughter,  close 
upon  his  reverent  "Amen,"— and  after  one  awful 
glare  at  her  sister,  Prudence  joined  in.  This  gaiety 
communicated  itself  to  the  others  and  soon  it  was 
a  rollicking  group  around  the  parsonage  table.  Mr. 
Morgan  himself  smiled  uncertainly.  He  was  puz- 
zled. More,  he  was  embarrassed  But  as  soon  as 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  47 

Carol  could  get  her  breath,  she  gasped  out  an  ex- 
planation. 

"You  were  just — right,  Mr.  Morgan, — to  give 
thanks — for  the  table  I  There's  nothing — on  it — 
to  be  thankful  for!" 

And  the  whole  family  went  off  once  more  into 
peals  of  laughter. 

Mr.  Morgan  had  very  little  appetite  that  day. 
He  did  not  seem  to  be  so  fond  of  sweet  corn  as 
he  had  assured  Prudence.  He  talked  very  little,  too. 
And  as  soon  as  possible  he  took  his  hat  and  walked 
hurriedly  away.  He  did  not  call  at  the  parsonage 
again. 

"Oh,  Carol,"  said  Prudence  reproachfully,  wip- 
ing her  eyes,  "how  could  you  start  us  all  off  like 
that?" 

"For  the  table,  for  the  table!"  shrieked  Carol, 
and  Prudence  joined  in  perforce. 

"It  was  awful,"  she  gasped,  "but  it  was  funny! 
I  believe  even  father  would  have  laughed." 

A  few  weeks  after  this,  Carol  distinguished  her- 
self again,  and  to  her  lasting  mortification.  The 
parsonage  pasture  had  been  rented  out  during  the 
summer  months  before  the  change  of  ministers,  the 


48     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

outgoing  incumbent  having  kept  neither  horse  nor 
cow.  As  may  be  imagined,  the  little  pasture  had 
been  taxed  to  the  utmost,  and  when  the  new  minis- 
ter arrived,  he  found  that  his  field  afforded  poor 
grazing  for  his  pretty  little  Jersey.  But  a  man  liv- 
ing only  six  blocks  from  the  parsonage  had  gener- 
ously offered  Mr.  Starr  free  pasturage  in  his  broad 
meadow,  and  the  offer  was  gratefully  accepted. 
This  meant  that  every  evening  the  twins  must  walk 
the  six  blocks  after  the  cow,  and  every  morning 
must  take  her  back  for  the  day's  grazing. 

One  evening,  as  they  were  starting  out  from  the 
meadow  homeward  with  the  docile  animal,  Carol 
stopped  and  gazed  at  Blinkie  reflectively. 

"Lark,"  she  said,  "I  just  believe  to  my  soul  that 
I  could  ride  this  cow.  She's  so  gentle,  and  I'm  such 
a  good  hand  at  sticking  on." 

"Carol!"  ejaculated  Lark.  "Think  how  it  would 
look  for  a  parsonage  girl  to  go  down  the  street  rid- 
ing a  cow." 

"But  there's  no  one  to  see,"  protested  Carol.  And 
this  was  true.  For  the  parsonage  was  near  the 
edge  of  town,  and  the  girls  passed  only  five  houses 
on  their  way  home  from  the  meadow,— and  all  of 
them  were  well  back  from  the  road.  And  Carol 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  49 

was,  as  she  had  claimed,  a  good  hand  at  "sticking 
on."  She  had  ridden  a  great  deal  while  they  were 
at  Exminster,  a  neighbor  being  well  supplied  with 
rideable  horses,  and  she  was  passionately  fond  of 
the  sport.  To  be  sure,  she  had  never  ridden  a  cow, 
but  she  was  sure  it  would  be  easy. 

Lark  argued  and  pleaded,  but  Carol  was  firm. 
"I  must  try  it,"  she  insisted,  "and  if  it  doesn't  go 
well  I  can  slide  off.  You  can  lead  her,  Lark." 

The  obliging  Lark  boosted  her  sister  up,  and 
Carol  nimbly  scrambled  into  place,  riding  astride. 

"I've  got  to  ride  this  way,"  she  said ;  "cows  have 
such  funny  backs  I  couldn't  keep  on  any  other  way. 
If  I  see  any  one  coming,  I'll  slide  for  it." 

For  a  while  all  went  well.  Lark  led  Blinkie  care- 
fully, gazing  about  anxiously  to  see  that  no  one  ap- 
proached. Carol  gained  confidence  as  they  pro- 
ceeded, and  chatted  with  her  sister  nonchalantly, 
waving  her  hands  about  to  show  her  perfect  bal- 
ance and  lack  of  fear.  So  they  advanced  to  within 
two  blocks  of  the  parsonage. 

"It's  very  nice,"  said  Carol,  'Very  nice  indeed,— 
but  her  backbone  is  rather — well,  rather  penetrat- 
ing. I  think  I  need  a  saddle." 

By  this  time,  Blinkie  concluded  that  she  was  be- 


50     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ing  imposed  upon.  She  shook  her  head  violently, 
and  twitched  the  rope  from  Lark's  hand, — for  Lark 
now  shared  her  sister's  confidence,  and  held  it 
loosely.  With  a  little  cry  she  tried  to  catch  the  end 
of  it,  but  Blinkie  was  too  quick  for  her.  She  gave 
a  scornful  toss  of  her  dainty  head,  and  struck  out 
madly  for  home.  With  great  presence  of  mind, 
Carol  fell  flat  upon  the  cow's  neck,  and  hung  on  for 
dear  life,  while  Lark,  in  terror,  started  out  in  pur- 
suit 

"Help!  Help!"  she  cried  loudly.  "Papa! 
Papa!  Papa!" 

In  this  way,  they  turned  in  at  the  parsonage  gate, 
which  happily  stood  open, — otherwise  Blinkie  would 
undoubtedly  have  gone  through,  or  over.  As  luck 
would  have  it,  Mr.  Starr  was  standing  at  the  door 
with  two  men  who  had  been  calling  on  him,  and 
hearing  Lark's  frantic  cries,  they  rushed  to  meet 
the  wild  procession,  and  had  the  unique  experience 
of  seeing  a  parsonage  girl  riding  flat  on  her  stomach 
on  the  neck  of  a  galloping  Jersey,  with  another 
parsonage  girl  in  mad  pursuit. 

Blinkie  stopped  beside  the  barn,  and  turned  her 
head  about  inquiringly.  Carol  slid  to  the  ground, 


THE  REST  OF  THE  FAMILY  51 

and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  at  sight  of  the 
two  men  with  her  father.  Then  with  never  a  word, 
she  lit  out  for  the  house  at  top  speed.  Seeing  that 
she  was  not  hurt,  and  that  no  harm  had  been  done, 
the  three  men  sat  down  on  the  ground  and  burst 
into  hearty  laughter. 

Lark  came  upon  them  as  they  sat  thus,  and  Lark 
was  angry.  She  stamped  her  foot  with  a  violence 
that  must  have  hurt  her. 

"I  don't  see  anything  to  laugh  at,"  she  cried  pas- 
sionately, "it  was  awful,  it  was  just  awful!  Carrie 
might  have  been  killed!  It — it " 

"Tell  us  all  about  it,  Lark,"  gasped  her  father. 
And  Lark  did  so,  smiling  a  little  herself,  now  that 
her  fears  were  relieved.  "Poor  Carol,"  she  said, 
"she'll  never  live  down  the  humiliation.  I  must  go 
and  console  her." 

And  a  little  later,  the  twins  were  weeping  on  each 
other's  shoulders. 

"I  wouldn't  have  cared,"  sobbed  Carol,  "if  it  had 
been  anybody  else  in  the  world!  But — the  presid- 
ing elder, — and — the  president  of  the  Presbyterian 
College!  And  I  know  the  Presbyterians  look  down 
on  us  Methodists  anyhow,  though  they  wouldn't  ad- 


52     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

mit  it !  And  riding  a  cow !  Oh,  Larkie,  if  you  love 
me,  go  down-stairs  and  get  me  the  carbolic  acid, 
so  I  can  die  and  be  out  of  disgrace." 

This,  however,  Lark  stoutly  refused  to  do,  and 
in  a  little  while  Carol  felt  much  better.  But  she 
talked  it  over  with  Prudence  very  seriously. 

"I  hope  you  understand,  Prudence,  that  I  shall 
never  have  anything  more  to  do  with  Blinkie !  She 
can  die  of  starvation  for  all  I  care.  I'll  never  take 
her  to  and  from  the  pasture  again.  I  couldn't  do 
it!  Such  rank  ingratitude  as  that  cow  displayed 
was  never  equaled,  I  am  certain." 

"I  suppose  you'll  quit  using  milk  and  cream, 
too,"  suggested  Prudence. 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Carol  more  tolerantly,  "I  don't 
want  to  be  too  hard  on  Blinkie,  for  after  all  it  was 
partly  my  own  fault.  So  I  won't  go  that  far.  But 
I  must  draw  the  line  somewhere!  Hereafter, 
Blinkie  and  I  meet  as  strangers  1" 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  LADIES'  AID 

<  4  "IT'S   perfectly   disgusting,    I    admit,    father," 

JL  said  Prudence  sweetly,  "but  you  know  your- 
self that  it  very  seldom  happens.  And  I  am  sure 
the  kitchen  is  perfectly  clean,  and  the  soup  is  very 
nice  indeed, — if  it  is  canned  soup!  Twins,  this  is 
four  slices  of  bread  apiece  for  you!  You  see, 
father,  I  really  feel  that  this  is  a  crisis  in  the  life 
of  the  parsonage " 

"How  long  does  a  parsonage  usually  live?"  de- 
manded Carol. 

"It  wouldn't  live  long  if  the  ministers  had  many 
twins,"  said  Fairy  quickly. 

"Ouch!"  grinned  Connie,  plagiarizing,  for  that 
expressive  word  belonged  exclusively  to  the  twins, 
and  it  was  double  impertinence  to  apply  it  to  one 
of  its  very  possessors. 

"And  you  understand,  don't  you,  father,  that  if 
everything  does  not  go  just  exactly  right,  I  shall 
feel  I  am  disgraced  for  life?  I  know  the  Ladies 

53 


54     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

disapprove  of  me,  and  look  on  me  with  suspicion. 
I  know  they  think  it  wicked  and  ridiculous  to  leave 
the  raising  of  four  bright  spirits  in  the  unworthy 
hands  of  a  girl  like  me.  I  know  they  will  all  sniff 
and  smile  and —  Of  course,  twins,  they  have  a  per- 
fect right  to  feel,  and  act,  so.  I  am  not  complain- 
ing. But  I  want  to  show  them  for  once  in  their 
lives  that  the  parsonage  runs  smoothly  and  sweetly. 
If  you  would  just  stay  at  home  with  us,  father,  it 
would  be  a  big  help.  You  are  such  a  tower  of 
strength." 

"But  unfortunately  I  can  not.  People  do  not  get 
married  every  day  in  the  week,  and  when  they  are 
all  ready  for  it  they  do  not  allow  even  Ladies'  Aids 
to  stand  in  their  way.  It  is  a  long  drive,  ten  miles 
at  least,  and  I  must  start  at  once.  And  it  will 
likely  be  very  late  when  I  get  back.  But  if  you 
are  all  good,  and  help  Prudence,  and  uphold 
the  reputation  of  the  parsonage,  I  will  divide  the 
wedding  fee  with  you,— share  and  share  alike." 
This  was  met  with  such  enthusiasm  that  he  added 
hastily,  "But  wait!  It  may  be  only  a  dollar!" 

Then  kissing  the  various  members  of  the  parson- 
age family,  he  went  out  the  back  door,  barnward. 


THE  LADIES'  AID  55 

"Now,"  said  Prudence  briskly,  "I  want  to  make 
a  bargain  with  you,  girls.  If  you'll  stay  clear  away 
from  the  Ladies,  and  be  very  good  and  orderly, 
I'll  give  you  all  the  lemonade  and  cake  you  can 
drink  afterward." 

"Oh,  Prudence,  I'm  sure  I  can't  drink  much 
cake,"  cried  Carol  tragically,  "I  just  can't  imagine 
myself  doing  it!" 

"I  mean,  eat  the  cake,  of  course,"  said  Prudence, 
blushing. 

"And  let  us  make  taffy  after  supper?"  wheedled 
Carol 

Prudence  hesitated,  and  the  three  yoting  faces 
hardened.  Then  Prudence  relented  and  hastily 
agreed-  "You  won't  need  to  appear  at  all,  you 
know.  (You  can  just  stay  outdoors  and  play  as 
though  you  were  model  children." 

**Yes,"  said  Carol  tartly,  "the  kind  the  members 
used  to  have, — which  are  all  grown  up,  now!  And 
all  moved  out  of  Mount  Mark,  too!" 

"Carol!  That  sounds  malicious,  and  malice  isn't 
tolerated  here  for  a  minute.  Now,— oh,  Fairy,  did 
you  remember  to  dust  the  back  of  the  dresser  in  our 
bedroom  ?" 


56     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Mercy!  What  in  the  world  do  you  want  the 
back  of  the  dresser  dusted  for?  Do  you  expect  the 
Ladies  to  look  right  through  it?" 

"No,  but  some  one  might  drop  something  behind 
it,  and  it  would  have  to  be  pulled  out  and  they 
would  all  see  it.  This  house  has  got  to  be  abso- 
lutely spotless  for  once,— I  am  sure  it  will  be  the 
first  time." 

"And  the  last,  I  hope,"  added  Carol  sepulchrally. 
"We.  have  an  hour  and  a  half  yet,"  continued 
Prudence,    "That  will  give  us  plenty  of  time  for 
the  last  touches.    Twins  and  Connie,  you'd  better 
go  right  out  in  the  field  and  play.    I'll  call  you  a 
little  before  two,  and  then  you  must  go  quietly  up- 
stairs, and  dress — just  wear  your  plain  little  ging- 
hams, the  clean  ones  of  course!    Then  if  they  do 
catch  a  glimpse  of  you,  you  will  be  presentable. — 
Yes,  you  can  take  some  bread  and  sugar,  but  hurry." 
"You  may  take,"  said  Fairy. 
"Yes,  of  course,  may  take  is  what  I  mean. — « 
Now  hurry." 

Then  Prudence  and  Fairy  set  to  work  again  in 
good  earnest.  The  house  was  already  well  cleaned. 
The  sandwiches  were  made.  But  there  were  the 


THE  LADIES'  AID  57 

last  "rites,"  and  every  detail  must  be  religiously 
attended  to. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  three  main 
down-stairs  rooms  of  the  parsonage  were  connected 
by  double  doors, — double  doors,  you  understand, 
not  portieres !  The  front  room,  seldom  used  by  the 
parsonage  family,  opened  on  the  right  of  the  nar- 
row hallway.  Beyond  it  was  the  living-room,  which 
it  must  be  confessed  the  parsonage  girls  only  called 
"living-room"  when  they  were  on  their  Sunday  be- 
havior,— ordinarily  it  was  the  sitting-room,  and  a 
cheery,  homey,  attractive  place  it  was,  with  a  great 
bay  window  looking  out  upon  the  stately  mansion 
of  the  Averys.  To  the  left  of  the  living-room  was 
the  dining-room.  The  double  doors  between  them 
were  always  open.  The  other  pair  was  closed,  ex- 
cept on  occasions  of  importance. 

Now,  this  really  was  a  crisis  in  the  life  of  the 
parsonage  family, — if  not  of  the  parsonage  itself. 
The  girls  had  met,  separately,  every  member  of  the 
Ladies'  Aid.  But  this  was  their  first  combined 
movement  upon  the  parsonage,  and  Prudence  and 
Fairy  realized  that  much  depended  on  the  success 
of  the  day.  As  girls,  the  whole  Methodist  church 


58      PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

pronounced  the  young  Starrs  charming.  But  as 
parsonage  people,— well,  they  were  obliged  to  re- 
serve judgment.  And  as  for  Prudence  having  en- 
tire charge  of  the  household,  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged that  every  individual  Lady  looked  forward  to 
this  meeting  with  eagerness,— they  wanted  to  "size 
up"  the  situation.  They  were  coming  to  see  for 
themselves!  Yes,  it  was  undoubtedly  a  crisis. 

"There'll  be  a  crowd,  of  course,"  said  Fairy. 
"We'll  just  leave  the  doors  between  the  front  rooms 
open." 

"Yes,  but  we'll  close  the  dining-room  doors. 
Then  we'll  have  the  refreshments  all  out  on  the 
table,  and  when  we  are  ready  we'll  just  fling  back 
the  doors  carelessly  and — there  you  are !" 

So  the  table  was  prettily  decorated  with  flowers, 
and  great  plates  of  sandwiches  and  cake  were  placed 
upon  it.  In  the  center  was  an  enormous  punch- 
bowl, borrowed  from  the  Averys,  full  of  lemonade. 
Glasses  were  properly  arranged  on  the  trays,  and 
piles  of  nicely  home-laundered  napkins  were  scat- 
tered here  and  there.  The  girls  felt  that  the  dining- 
room  was  a  credit  to  them,  and  to  the  Methodist 
church  entire. 


THE  LADIES'  AID  59 

From  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  house  they 
hunted  out  chairs  and  stools,  anticipating  a  real  run 
upon  the  parsonage.  Nor  were  they  disappointed. 
The  twins  and  Connie  were  not  even  arrayed  in 
their  plain  little  ginghams,  clean,  before  the  first 
arrivals  were  ushered  up  into  the  front  bedroom, 
ordinarily  occupied  by  Prudence  and  Fairy. 

"There's  Mrs.  Adams,  and  Mrs.  Prentiss,  and 

Mrs. ,"  began  Connie,  listening  intently  to  the 

voices  in  the  next  room. 

"Yes,"  whispered  Carol,  "peek  through  the  key- 
hole, Lark,  and  see  if  Mrs.  Prentiss  is  looking  un- 
der the  bed  for  dust.  They  say  she " 

"You'd  better  not  let  Prudence  catch  you  repeat- 
ing " 

"There's  Mrs.  Stone,  and  Mrs.  Davis,  and " 

"They  say  Mrs.  Davis  only  belongs  to  the  La- 
dies' Aid  for  the  sake  of  the  refreshments,  and " 

"Carol!     Prudence  will  punish  you." 

"Well,  I  don't  believe  it,"  protested  Carol.  "I'm 
just  telling  you  what  I've  heard  other  people  say." 

"We  aren't  allowed  to  repeat  gossip,"  urged 
Lark. 

"No,  and  I  think  it's  a  shame,  too,  for  it's  aw- 


60     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

fully  funny.  Minnie  Drake  told  me  that  Miss 
Varne  joined  the  Methodist  church  as  soon  as  she 
heard  the  new  minister  was  a  widower  so  she " 

"Carol!" 

Carol  whirled  around  sharply,  and  flushed,  and 
swallowed  hard.  For  Prudence  was  just  behind 
her. 

"I— I — I — "  but  she  could  get  no  further. 

Upon  occasion,  Prudence  was  quite  terrible.  "So 
I  heard,"  she  said  dryly,  but  her  eyes  were  hard. 
"Now  run  down-stairs  and  out  to  the  field,  or  to 
the  barn,  and  play.  And,  Carol,  be  sure  and  remind 
me  of  that  speech  to-night.  I  might  forget  it" 

The  girls  ran  quickly  out,  Carol  well  in  the  lead. 

"No  wedding  fee  for  me,"  she  mumbled  bit- 
terly. "Do  you  suppose  there  can  be  seven  devils 
in  my  tongue,  Lark,  like  there  are  in  the  Bible?" 

"I  don't  remember  there  being  seven  devils  in  the 
Bible,"  said  Lark. 

"Oh,  I  mean  the — the  possessed  people  it  tells 
about  in  the  Bible, — crazy,  I  suppose  it  means. 
Somehow  I  just  can't  help  repeating " 

"You  don't  want  to,"  said  Lark,  not  without 
sympathy.  "You  think  it's  such  fun,  you  know/5 

"Well,  anyhow,  I'm  sure  I  won't  get  any  wed- 


THE  LADIES'  AID  61 

fee  to-night.  It  seems  to  me  Prudence  is  very 
— harsh  sometimes." 

"You  can  appeal  to  father,  if  you  like.'* 

"Not  on  your  life,"  said  Carol  promptly  and 
emphatically;  "he's  worse  than  Prudence.  Like 
as  not  he'd  give  me  a  good  thrashing  into  the  bar- 
gain. No, — I'm  strong  for  Prudence  when  it 
comes  to  punishment, — in  preference  to  father,  I 
mean.  I  can't  seem  to  be  fond  of  any  kind  of 
punishment  from  anybody." 

For  a  while  Carol  was  much  depressed,  but  by 
nature  she  was  a  buoyant  soul  and  her  spirits  were 
presently  soaring  again. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Ladies  of  the  Aid  Society- 
continued  to  arrive.  Prudence  and  Fairy,  freshly- 
gowned  and  smiling-faced,  received  them  with 
cordiality  and  many  merry  words.  It  was  not  diffi* 
cult  for  them,  they  had  been  reared  in  the  hos- 
pitable atmosphere  of  Methodist  parsonages,  where, 
if  you  have  but  two  dishes  of  oatmeal,  the  outsider 
is  welcome  to  one.  That  is  Carol's  description  of 
parsonage  life. 

But  Prudence  was  concerned  to  observe  that  a 
big  easy  chair  placed  well  back  in  a  secluded  cor- 
ner, seemed  to  be  giving  dissatisfaction.  It  was 


62     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Mrs.  Adams  who  sat  there  first.  She  squirmed 
quite  a  little,  and  seemed  to  be  gripping  the  arms 
of  the  chair  with  unnecessary  fervor.  Presently 
she  stammered  an  excuse,  and  rising,  went  into 
the  other  room.  After  that,  Mrs.  Miller  tried  the 
corner  chair,  and  soon  moved  away.  Then  Mrs. 
Jack,  Mrs.  Norey,  and  Mrs.  Beed,  in  turn,  sat 
there, — and  did  not  stay.  Prudence  was  quite 
agonized.  Had  the  awful  twins  filled  it  with  nee- 
dles for  the  reception  of  the  poor  Ladies?  At 
first  opportunity,  she  hurried  into  the  secluded  cor- 
ner, intent  upon  trying  the  chair  for  herself.  She 
sat  down  anxiously.  Then  she  gasped,  and  clutched 
frantically  at  the  arms  of  the  chair.  For  she  discov- 
ered at  once  to  her  dismay  that  the  chair  was  bot- 
tomless, and  that  only  by  hanging  on  for  her  life 
could  she  keep  from  dropping  through.  She 
thought  hard  for  a  moment, — but  thinking  did  not 
interfere  with  her  grasp  on  the  chair-arms, — 
and  then  she  realized  that  the  wisest  thing  would 
be  to  discuss  it  publicly.  Anything  would  be  better 
than  leaving  it  unexplained,  for  the  Ladies  to  com- 
ment upon  privately. 

So   up   rose   Prudence,    conscientiously   pulling 


THE  LADIES'  AID  63 

after  her  the  thin  cushion  which  had  concealed 
the  chair's  shortcoming.  "Look,  Fairy!"  she  cried. 
"Did  you  take  the  bottom  out  of  this  chair? — It 
must  have  been  horribly  uncomfortable  for  those 
who  have  sat  there! — However  did  it  happen?" 

Fairy  was  frankly  amazed,  and  a  little  inclined 
to  be  amused. 

"Ask  the  twins,"  she  said  tersely,  "I  know  noth- 
ing about  it" 

At  that  moment,  the  luckless  Carol  went  running 
through  the  hall.  Prudence  knew  it  was  she,  with- 
out seeing,  because  she  had  a  peculiar  skipping  run 
that  was  quite  characteristic  and  unmistakable. 

"Carol!"  she  called. 

And  Carol  paused. 

"Carol!"  more  imperatively. 

Then  Carol  slowly  opened  the  door, — she  was  a 
parsonage  girl  and  rose  to  the  occasion.  She  smiled 
winsomely, — Carol  was  nearly  always  winsome. 

"How  do  you  do?"  she  said  brightly.  "Isn't  it 
a  lovely  day?  Did  you  call  me,  Prudence?" 

"Yes.  Do  you  know  where  the  bottom  of  that 
chair  has  gone?" 

"Why,  no,  Prudence — gracious!     That  chair! — 


64     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Why,  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  bring  that 
chair  in  here.  —  Why,—  oh,  I  am  so  sorry !  Why  in 
the  world  didn't  you  tell  us  beforehand?" 

Some  of  the  Ladies  smiled.  Others  lifted  their 
brows  and  shoulders  in  a  mildly  suggestive  way, 
that  Prudence,  after  nineteen  years  in  the  parson- 
age, had  learned  to  know  and  dread. 

"And  where  is  the  chair-bottom  now?"  she  in- 
quired. "And  why  did  you  take  it?" 

"Why  we  wanted  to  make " 

"You  and  Lark?" 

"Well,  yes, —  but  it  was  really  all  my  fault,  you 
know.  We  wanted  to  make  a  seat  up  high  in  the 
peach  tree,  and  we  couldn't  find  a  board  the  right 
shape.  So  she  discovered — I  mean,  I  did — that  by; 
pulling  out  two  tiny  nails  we  could  get  the  bottom 
off  the  chair,  and  it  was  just  fine.  It's  a  perfectly 
adorable  seat,"  brightening,  but  sobering  again  as 
she  realized  the  gravity  of  the  occasion.  "And  we 
put  the  cushion  in  the  chair  so  that  it  wouldn't  be 
noticed.  We  never  use  that  chair,  you  know,  and 
we  didn't  think  of  your  needing  it  to-day.  We  put 
it  away  back  in  the  cold  corner  of  the  sitting — er, 
living-room  where  no  one  ever  sits.  I'm  so  sorry 
about  it" 


THE  LADIES'  AID  65 

Carol  was  really  quite  crushed,  but  true  to  her 
parsonage  training,  she  struggled  valiantly  and 
presently  brought  forth  a  crumpled  and  sickly 
.smile. 

But  Prudence  smiled  at  her  kindly.  "That  wasn't 
very  naughty,  Carol,"  she  said  frankly.  "It's  true 
that  we  seldom  use  that  chair.  And  we  ought  to 
have  looked."  She  glanced  reproachfully  at  Fairy. 
"It  is  strange  that  in  dusting  it,  Fairy — but  never 
mind.  You  may  go  now,  Carol.  It  is  all  right" 

Then  she  apologized  gently  to  the  Ladies,  and 
the  conversation  went  on,  but  Prudence  was  uncom- 
fortably conscious  of  keen  and  quizzical  eyes 
turned  her  way.  Evidently  they  thought  she  was 
too  lenient 

"Well,  it  wasn't  very  naughty,"  she  thought 
wretchedly.  "How  can  I  pretend  it  was  terribly 
bad,  when  I  feel  in  my  heart  that  it  wasn't!" 

Before  long,  the  meeting  was  called  to  order, 
and  the  secretary  instructed  to  read  the  minutes. 

"Oh,"  fluttered  Miss  Carr  excitedly,  "I  forgot 
to  bring  the  book.  I  haven't  been  secretary  very 
long,  you  know." 

"Only  six  months,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Adams 
tartlv. 


66     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"How  do  you  expect  to  keep  to-day's  minutes?" 
demanded  the  president 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  Miss  Prudence  will  give  me  a 
pencil  and  paper,  and  I'll  copy  them  in  the  book  as 
soon  as  ever  I  get  home." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Prudence.  "There  is  a  tab- 
let on  that  table  beside  you,  and  pencils,  too.  I 
thought  we  might  need  them." 

Then  the  president  made  a  few  remarks,  but 
while  she  talked,  Miss  Carr  was  excitedly  opening 
the  tablet  Miss  Carr  was  always  excited,  and 
always  fluttering,  and  always  giggling  girlishly. 
Carol  called  her  a  sweet  old  simpering  soul,  and 
so  she  was.  But  now,  right  in  the  midst  of  the 
president's  serious  remarks,  she  quite  giggled  out. 

The  president  stared  at  her  in  amazement  The 
Ladies  looked  up  curiously.  Miss  Carr  was  bend- 
ing low  over  the  tablet,  and  laughing  gaily  to  her-' 
self. 

"Oh,  this  is  very  cute,"  she  said.  "Who  wrote 
it?  Oh,  it  is  just  real  cunning." 

Fairy  sprang  up,  suddenly  scarlet  "Oh,  per- 
haps you  have  one  of  the  twins'  books,  and  they're 
always  scribbling  and " 


THE  LADIES'  AID  67 

"No,  it  is  yours,  Fairy.  I  got  it  from  among  your 
school-books." 

Fairy  sank  back,  intensely  mortified,  and  Miss 
Carr  chirped  brightly: 

"Oh,  Fairy,  dear,  did  you  write  this  little  poem? 
How  perfectly  sweet!  And  what  a  queer,  senti- 
mental little  creature  you  are.  I  never  dreamed 
you  were  so  romantic.  Mayn't  I  read  it  aloud?" 

Fairy  was  speechless,  but  the  Ladies,  including 
the  president,  were  impatiently  waiting.  So  Miss 
Carr  began  reading  in  a  sentimental,  dreamy  voice 
that  must  have  been  very  fetching  fifty  years  be- 
fore. At  the  first  suggestion  of  poetry,  Prudence 
sat  up  with  conscious  pride, — Fairy  was  so  clever! 
But  before  Miss  Carr  had  finished  the  second  verse, 
she  too  was  literally  drowned  in  humiliation. 

"My  love  rode  out  of  the  glooming  night, 
Into  the  glare  of  the  morning  light. 
My  love  rode  out  of  the  dim  unknown, 
Into  my  heart  to  claim  his  own. 
My  love  rode  out  of  the  yesterday, 
Into  the  now, — and  he  came  to  stay. 
Oh,  love  that  is  rich,  and  pure,  and  true, 
The  love  in  my  heart  leaps  out  to  you. 
Oh,  love,  at  last  you  have  found  your  part, — * 
To  come  and  dwell  in  my  empty  heart." 


68     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Miss  Carr  sat  down,  giggling  delightedly,  and 
the  younger  Ladies  laughed,  and  the  older  Ladies 

smiled. 

But  Mrs.  Prentiss  turned  to  Fairy  gravely.  "How 

old  are  you,  my  dear?" 

And  with  a  too-apparent  effort,  Fairy  answered, 
"Sixteen!" 

"Indeed!"  A  simple  word,  but  so  suggestively 
uttered.  "Shall  we  continue  the  meeting,  Ladies  ?" 

This  aroused  Prudence's  ire  on  her  sister's  be- 
half, and  she  squared  her  shoulders  defiantly.  For 
a  while,  Fairy  was  utterly  subdued.  But  thinking 
it  over  to  herself,  she  decided  that  after  all  there 
was  nothing  absolutely  shameful  in  a  sixteen-year- 
old  girl  writing  sentimental  verses.  Silly,  to  be 
sure!  But  all  sixteen-year-olds  are  silly.  We  love 
them  for  it!  And  Fairy's  good  nature  and  really 
good  judgment  came  to  her  rescue,  and  she  smiled 
at  Prudence  with  her  old  serenity. 

The  meeting  progressed,  and  the  business  was 
presently  disposed  of.  So  far,  things  were  not  too 
seriously  bad,  and  Prudence  sighed  in  great  re- 
lief. Then  the  Ladies  took  out  their  sewing,  and 
began  industriously  working  at  many  unmention- 
able articles,  designed  for  the  intimate  clothing  of 


THE  LADIES'  AID  69 

a  lot  of  young  Methodists  confined  in  an  orphans' 
home  in  Chicago.  And  they  talked  together  pleas- 
antly and  gaily.  And  Prudence  and  Fairy  felt  that 
the  cloud  was  lifted. 

But  soon  it  settled  again,  dark  and  lowering. 
Prudence  heard  Lark  running  through  the  hall  and 
her  soul  misgave  her.  Why  was  Lark  going  up- 
stairs? What  was  her  errand?  And  she  remem- 
bered the  wraps  of  the  Ladies,  up-stairs,  alone  and 
unprotected.  Dare  she  trust  Lark  in  such  a  crisis? 
Perhaps  the  very  sight  of  Prudence  and  the  La- 
dies' Aid  would  arouse  her  better  nature,  and  pre- 
vent catastrophe.  To  be  sure,  her  mission  might 
be  innocent,  but  Prudence  dared  not  run  the  risk. 
Fortunately  she  was  sitting  near  the  door. 

"Lark!"  she  called  softly.  Lark  stopped  abrupt- 
ly, and  something  fell  to  the  floor. 

"Lark!" 

There  was  a  muttered  exclamation  from  without, 
and  Lark  began  fumbling  rapidly  around  on  the 
floor  talking  incoherently  to  herself. 

"Lark!" 

The  Ladies  smiled,  and  Miss  Carr,  laughing 
lightly,  said,  "She  is  an  attentive  creature,  isn't 
she?" 


70     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence  would  gladly  have  flown  out  into  the 
hall  to  settle  this  matter,  but  she  realized  that  she 
was  on  exhibition.  Had  she  done  so,  the  Ladies 
would  have  set  her  down  forever  after  as  thorough- 
ly incompetent,— she  could  not  go !  But  Lark  must 
come  to  her. 

"Lark !"  This  was  Prudence's  most  awful  voice, 
and  Lark  was  bound  to  heed. 

"Oh,  Prue,"  she  said  plaintively,  "I'll  be  there  in 
a  minute.  Can't  you  wait  just  five  minutes  ?  Let 
me  run  up-stairs  first,  won't  you?  Then  I'll  come 
gladly!  Won't  that  do?" 

Her  voice  was  hopeful  But  Prudence  replied 
with  dangerous  calm : 

"Come  at  once,  Lark." 

"All  right,  then,"  and  added  threateningly,  "but 
you'll  wish  I  hadn't." 

Then  Lark  opened  the  door, — a  woeful  figure! 
In  one  hand  she  carried  an  empty  shoe  box.  And 
her  face  was  streaked  with  good  rich  Iowa  mud. 
Her  clothes  were  plastered  with  it.  One  shoe  was 
caked  from  the  sole  to  the  very  top  button,  and  a 
great  gash  in  her  stocking  revealed  a  generous 
portion  of  round  white  leg. 

Poor  Prudence!     At  that  moment,   she  would 


THE  LADIES'  AID  71 

have  exchanged  the  whole  parsonage,  bathroom, 
electric  lights  and  all,  for  a  tiny  log  cabin  in  the 
heart  of  a  great  forest  where  she  and  Lark  might 
be  alone  together. 

And  Fairy  laughed.  Prudence  looked  at  her 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  then  turned  to  the 
wretched  girl. 

"What  have  you  been  doing,  Lark?" 
The  heart-break  expressed  in  the  face  of  Lark 
would  have  made  the  angels  weep.  Beneath  the 
smudges  of  mud  on  her  cheeks  she  was  pallid,  and 
try  as  she  would,  she  could  not  keep  her  chin  from 
trembling  ominously.  Her  eyes  were  fastened  on 
the  floor  for  the  most  part,  but  occasionally  she 
raised  them  hurriedly,  appealingly,  to  her  sister's 
face,  and  dropped  them  again.  Not  for  worlds 
would  she  have  faced  the  Ladies!  Prudence  was 
obliged  to  repeat  her  question  before  Lark 
could  articulate  a  reply.  She  gulped  painfully  a 
few  times, — making  meanwhile  a  desperate  effort 
to  hide  the  gash  in  one  stocking  by  placing  the  other 
across  it,  rubbing  it  up  and  down  in  great  embar- 
rassment, and  balancing  herself  with  apparent  diffi- 
culty. Her  voice,  when  she  was  able  to  speak,  was 
barely  recognizable. 


72     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"We— we— we  are  making— mud  images,  Prud- 
ence. It— it  was  awfully  messy,  I  know,  but— they 
say— it  is  such  a  good— and  useful  thing  to  do.  We 
—we  didn't  expect— the— the  Ladies  to  see  us." 

"Mud  images!"  gasped  Prudence,  and  even  Fairy 
stared  incredulously.  "Where  in  the  world  did 
you  get  hold  of  an  idea  like  that?" 

"It— it  was  in  that— that  Mother's  Home  Friend 
paper  you  take,    Prudence."      Prudence   blushed 
guiltily.     "It— it  was  modeling  in  clay,  but— we 
haven't  any  clay,  and— the  mud  is  very  nice,  but— 
Oh,  I  know  I  look  just— horrible.     I— I — Connie 
pushed  me  in  the— puddle— for  fun.     I— I  was 
vexed  about  it,  Prudence,  honestly.    I — I  was  chas- 
ing her,  and  I  fell,  and  tore  my  stocking, — and — - 
and— but,   Prudence,   the  papers   do   say  children 
ought  to  model,  and  we  didn't  think  «f — getting 
caught."     Another  appealing  glance  into  her  sis- 
ter's face,  and  Lark  plunged  on,  bent  on  smooth- 
ing matters  if  she  could.    "Carol  is — is  just  fine  at 
it,  really.  She — she's  making  a  Venus  de  Milo,  and 
it's  good.    But  we  can't  remember  whether  her  arm 

is  off  at  the  elbow  or  below  the  shoulder "  An 

enormous  gulp,  and  by  furious  blinking  Lark  man- 
aged to  crowd  back  the  tears  that  would  slip  to 


THE  LADIES'  AID  73 

the  edge  of  her  lashes.  "I — I'm  very  sorry,  Pru- 
dence." 

"Very  well,  Lark,  you  may  go.  I  do  not  really 
object  to  your  modeling  in  mud,  I  am  sure.  I  am 
sorry  you  look  so  disreputable.  You  must  change 
your  shoes  and  stockings  at  once,  and  then  you  can 
go  on  with  your  modeling.  But  there  must  be  no 
more  pushing  and  chasing.  I'll  see  Connie  about 
that  to-night.  Now " 

"Oh !  Oh !  Oh !    What  in  the  world  is  that  ?" 

This  was  a  chorus  of  several  Ladies'  Aid  voices, 
' — a  double  quartette  at  the  very  least.  Lark  gave 
a  sharp  exclamation  and  began  looking  hurriedly 
about  her  on  the  floor. 

"It's  got  in  here, — just  as  I  expected,"  she  ex- 
claimed. "I  said  you  would  be  sorry,  Prue, —  Oh, 
there  it  is  under  your  chair,  Mrs.  Prentiss.  Just 
wait, — maybe  I  can  shove  it  back  in  the  box  again." 

This  was  greeted  with  a  fresh  chorus  of  shrieks. 
There  was  a  hurried  and  absolute  vacation  of  that 
corner  of  the  front  room.  The  Ladies  fled,  drop- 
ping their  cherished  sewing,  shoving  one  another 
in  a  most  Unladies-Aid-like  way. 

And  there,  beneath  a  chair,  squatted  the  cause  of 
the  confusion,  an  innocent,  unhappy,  blinking  toad ! 


74     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  Larkie!" 

This  was  a  prolonged  waiL 

"It's  all  right,  Prue,  honestly  it  is,"  urged  Lark 
with  pathetic  solemnity.  "We  didn't  do  it  for  a 
joke.  We're  keeping  him  for  a  good  purpose. 
Connie  found  him  in  the  garden, — and — Carol  said 
we  ought  to  keep  him  for  Professor  Duke, — he 
asked  us  to  bring  him  things  to  cut  up  in  science, 
you  remember.  So  we  just  shoved  him  into  this 
shoe  box,  and — we  thought  we'd  keep  him  in  the 
bath-tub  until  morning.  We  did  it  for  a  good  pur- 
pose, don't  you  see  we  did?  Oh,  Prudence!" 

Prudence  was  horribly  outraged,  but  even  in 
that  critical  moment,  justice  insisted  that  Lark's 
arguments  were  sound.  The  professor  had  cer- 
tainly asked  the  scholars  to  bring  him  ''things 
to  cut  up."  But  a  toadl  A  live  one! — And  the 
Ladies'  Aid!  Prudence  shivered. 

"I  am  sure  you  meant  well,  Larkie,"  she  said  in 
a  low  voice,  striving  hard  to  keep  down  the  bitter 
resentment  in  her  heart,  "I  know  you  did  But  you 
should  not  have  brought  that — that  thing — into 
the  house.  Pick  him  up  at  once,  and  take  him 
out-of-doors  and  let  him  go." 

But  this  was  not  readily  done.     In  spite  of  her 


THE  LADIES'  AID  75 

shame  and  deep  dismay,  Lark  refused  to  touch 
the  toad  with  her  fingers. 

"I  can't  touch  him,  Prudence, — I  simply  can't," 
she  whimpered.  "We  shoved  him  in  with  the  broom 
handle  before." 

And  as  no  one  else  was  willing  to  touch  it,  and 
as  the  Ladies  clustered  together  in  confusion,  and 
with  much  laughter,  in  the  far  corner  of  the  other 
room,  Prudence  brought  the  broom  and  the  not  un- 
willing toad  was  helped  to  other  quarters. 

"Now  go,"  said  Prudence  quickly,  and  Lark 
was  swift  to  avail  herself  of  the  permission. 

Followed  a  quiet  hour,  and  then  the  Ladies  put 
aside  their  sewing  and  walked  about  the  room,  chat- 
ting in  little  groups.  With  a  significant  glance  to 
Fairy,  Prudence  walked  calmly  to  the  double  doors 
between  the  dining-room  and  the  sitting-room.  The 
eyes  of  the  Ladies  followed  her  with  interest  and 
even  enthusiasm.  They  were  hungry.  Prudence 
slowly  opened  wide  the  doors,  and — stood  amazed ! 
The  Ladies  clustered  about  her,  and  stood  amazed 
also.  The  dining-room  was  there,  and  the  table! 
But  the  appearance  of  the  place  was  vastly  differ- 
ent! The  snowy  cloth  was  draped  artistically  over 
a  picture  on  the  wall,  the  lowest  edges  well  above 


76     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

the  floor.  The  plates  and  trays,  napkin-covered, 
were  safely  stowed  away  on  the  floor  in  distant 
corners.  .The  kitchen  scrub  bucket  had  been 
brought  in  and  turned  upside  down,  to  afford  a 
fitting  resting  place  for  the  borrowed  punch  bowl, 
full  to  overflowing  with  fragrant  lemonade. 

And  at  the  table  were  three  dirty,  disheveled  lit- 
tle figures,  bending  seriously  over  piles  of  mud.  A 
not-unrecognizable  Venus  de  Milo  occupied  the  cen- 
ter of  the  table.  Connie  was  painstakingly  at  work 
on  some  animal,  a  dog  perhaps,  or  possibly  an  ele- 
phant. And 

The  three  young  modelers  looked  up  in  exclama- 
tory consternation  as  the  doors  opened. 

"Oh,  are  you  ready?"  cried  Carol.  "How  the 
time  has  flown!  We  had  no  idea  you'd  be  ready 
so  soon.  Oh,  we  are  sorry,  Prudence.  We  intend- 
ed to  have  everything  fixed  properly  for  you  again. 
We  needed  a  flat  place  for  our  modeling.  It's 
*a  shame,  that's  what  it  is.  Isn't  that  a  handsome 
Venus?  I  did  that!— If  you'll  just  shut  the  door 
one  minute,  Prudence,  we'll  have  everything  ex- 
actly as  you  left  it.  And  we're  as  sorry  as  we  can 
be.  You  can  have  my  Venus  for  a  centerpiece,  if 
you  like." 


THE  LADIES'  AID  77 

Prudence  silently  closed  the  doors,  and  the  La- 
dies, laughing  significantly,  drew  away. 

"Don't  you  think,  my  dear,"  began  Mrs.  Prentiss 
too  sweetly,  "that  they  are  a  little  more  than  you 
can  manage?  Don't  you  really  think  an  older 
woman  is  needed  ?" 

"I  do  not  think  so,"  cried  Fairy,  before  her  sis- 
ter could  speak,  "no  older  woman  could  be  kinder, 
or  sweeter,  or  more  patient  and  helpful  than  Prue." 

"Undoubtedly  true!  But  something  more  is 
needed,  I  am  afraid!  It  appears  that  girls  are  a 
little  more  disorderly  than  in  my  own  young  days ! 
Perhaps  I  do  not  judge  advisedly,  but  it  seems  to 
me  they  are  a  little — unmanageable." 

"Indeed  they  are  not,"  cried  Prudence  loyally. 
"They  are  young,  lively,  mischievous,  I  know, — » 
and  I  am  glad  of  it.  But  I  have  lived  with  them 
ever  since  they  were  born,  and  I  ought  to  know 
them.  They  are  unselfish,  they  are  sympathetic, 
they  are  always  generous.  They  do  foolish  and 
irritating  things, — but  never  things  that  are  hateful 
and  mean.  [They  are  all  right  at  heart,  and  that 
is  all  that  counts.  They  are  not  bad  girls!  What 
have  they  done  to-day?  They  were  exasperating, 
and  humiliating,  too,  but  what  did  they  do  that 


78     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

was  really  mean  ?  They  embarrassed  and  mortified 
me,  but  not  intentionally !  I  can't  punish  them  for 
the  effect  on  me,  you  know!  Would  that  be  just 
or  fair?  At  heart,  they  meant  no  harm." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  there  were  many  seri- 
ous faces  among1  the  Ladies.  Some  cheeks  were 
flushed,  some  eyes  were  downcast,  some  lips  were 
compressed  and  some  were  trembling.  Every 
mother  there  was  asking  in  her  heart,  "Did  I  pun- 
ish my  children  just  for  the  effect  on  me?  Did  I 
judge  my  children  by  what  was  in  their  hearts,  or 
just  by  the  trouble  they  made  me?" 

And  the  silence  lasted  so  long  that  it  became  awk- 
ward. Finally  Mrs.  Prentiss  crossed  the  room  and 
stood  by  Prudence's  side.  She  laid  a  hand  tenderly 
on  the  young  girl's  arm,  and  said  in  a  voice  that 
was  slightly  tremulous: 

"I  believe  you  are  right,  my  dear.  It  is  what 
girls  are  at  heart  that  really  counts.  I  believe  your 
sisters  are  all  you  say  they  are.  And  one  thing  I 
am  very  sure  of,— they  are  happy  girls  to  have  a 
sister  so  patient,  and  loving,  and  just  Not  all  real 
mothers  have  as  much  to  their  credit!" 


CHAPTER  IV 

A  SECRET  SOCIETY 

CAROL  and  Lark,  in  keeping  with  their  twin- 
ship,  were  the  dearest  of  jphums  and  com- 
rades. They  resembled  each  other  closely  in  build, 
being  of  the  same  height  and  size.  They 
were  slender,  yet  gave  a  suggestion  of  sturdiness. 
Carol's  face  was  a  delicately  tinted  oval,  brightened 
by  clear  and  sparkling  eyes  of  blue.  She  was  really 
beautiful,  bright,  attractive  and  vivacious.  She 
made  friends  readily,  and  was  always  considered  the 
"most  popular  girl  in  our  crowd" — whatever 
Carol's  crowd  at  the  time  might  be.  But  she  was 
not  extremely  clever,  caring  little  for  study,  and 
with  no  especial  talent  in  any  direction.  Lark 
was  as  nearly  contrasting  as  any  sister  could  be. 
Her  face  was  pale,  her  eyes  were  dark  brown  and 
full  of  shadows,  and  she  was  a  brilliant  and  earnest 
student  For  each  other  the  twins  felt  a  passionate 
devotion  that  was  very  beautiful,  but  ludicrous  as 
well. 

79 


80  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

To  them,  the  great  rambling  barn  back  of  the 
parsonage  was  a  most  delightful  place.  It  had  a 
big  cow-shed  on  one  side,  and  horse  stalls  on  the 
other,  with  a  "heavenly"  haymow  over  all,  and 
with  "chutes"  for  the  descent  of  hay,— and  twins ! 
In  one  corner  was  a  high  dark  crib  for  corn,  with 
an  open  window  looking  down  into  the  horse  stalls 
adjoining.  When  the  crib  was  newly  filled,  the 
twins  could  clamber  painfully  up  on  the  corn, 
struggle  backward  through  the  narrow  window, 
and  holding  to  the  ledge  of  it  with  their  hands,  drop 
down  into  the  nearest  stall.  To  be  sure  they  were 
likely  to  fall, — more  likely  than  not, — and  their 
hands  were  splinter-filled  and  their  heads  blue- 
bumped  most  of  the  time.  But  splinters  and  bumps 
did  not  interfere  with  their  pursuit  of  pleasure. 

Now  the  twins  had  a  Secret  Society, — of  which 
they  were  the  founders,  the  officers  and  the  mem- 
bership body.  Its  name  was  Skull  and  Crossbones. 
Why  that  name  was  chosen  perhaps  even  the  twins 
themselves  could  not  explain,  but  it  sounded 
deep,  dark  and  bloody, — and  so  was  the  Society. 
Lark  furnished  the  brain  power  for  the  organiza- 
tion but  her  sister  was  an  enthusiastic  and  energetic 
second.  Carol's  club  name  was  Lady  Gwendolyn, 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  81 

and  Lark's  was  Sir  Alfred  Angelcourt  ordinarily, 
although  subject  to  frequent  change.  Sometimes 
she  was  Lord  Develing,  the  villain  of  the  plot,  and 
chased  poor  Gwendolyn  madly  through  corn-crib, 
horse  stalls  and  haymow.  Again  she  was  the  dark- 
browed  Indian  silently  stalking  his  unconscious 
prey.  Then  she  was  a  fierce  lion  lying  in  wait  for 
the  approaching  damsel.  The  old  barn  saw  stir- 
ring times  after  the  coming  of  the  new  parsonage 
family. 

"Hark!  Hark!"  sounded  a  hissing  whisper  from 
the  corn-crib,  and  Connie,  eavesdropping  outside 
the  barn,  shivered  sympathetically. 

"What  is  it!  Oh,  what  is  it?"  wailed  the  unfor- 
tunate lady. 

"Look !  Look !  Run  for  your  life !" 

Then  while  Connie  clutched  the  barn  door  in  a 

frenzy,  there  was  a  sound  of  rattling  corn  as  the 

twins  scrambled  upward,  a  silence,  a  low  thud,  and 

.an  unromantic  "Ouch!"  as  Carol  bumped  her  head 

>and  stumbled. 

"Are  you  assaulted?"  shouted  the  bold  Sir  Al- 
fred, and  Connie  heard  a  wild  scuffle  as  he  rescued 
his  companion  from  the  clutches  of  the  old  halter 
on  which  she  had  stumbled.  Up  the  haymow  ladder 


82   PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

they  hurried,  and  then  slid  recklessly  down  the  hay- 
chutes.  Presently  the  barn  door  was  flung  open, 
and  the  "Society"  knocked  Connie  flying  backward, 
ran  madly  around  the  barn  a  few  times,  and  scur- 
ried under  the  fence  and  into  the  chicken  coop. 

A  little  later,  Connie,  assailed  with  shots  of  corn- 
cobs, ran  bitterly  toward  the  house.  "Peaking"  was 
strictly  forbidden  when  the  twins  were  engaged  in 
Skull  and  Crossbones  activities. 

And  Connie's  soul  burned  with  desire.  She  felt 
that  this  secret  society  was  threatening  not  only 
her  happiness,  but  also  her  health,  for  she  could  not 
sleep  for  horrid  dreams  of  Skulls  and  Crossbones 
at  night,  and  could  not  eat  for  envying  the  twins 
their  secret  and  mysterious  joys.  Therefore,  with 
unwonted  humility,  she  applied  for  entrance.  She 
had  applied  many  times  previously,  without  effect. 
But  this  time  she  enforced  her  application  with  a 
nickel's  worth  of  red  peppermint  drops,  bought  for 
the  very  purpose.  The  twins  accepted  the  drops 
gravely,  and  told  Connie  she  must  make  formal 
application.  Then  they  marched  solemnly  off  to  the 
barn  with  the  peppermint  drops,  without  offering 
Connie  a  share.  This  hurt,  but  she  did  not  long 
grieve  over  it,  she  was  so  busy  wondering  what 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  83 

on  earth  they  meant  by  "formal  application." 
Finally  she  applied  to  Prudence,  and  received  as- 
sistance. 

The  afternoon  mail  brought  to  the  parsonage  an 
envelope  addressed  to  "Misses  Carol  and  Lark 
Starr,  The  Methodist  Parsonage,  Mount  Mark, 
Iowa,"  and  in  the  lower  left-hand  corner  was  a 
suggestive  drawing  of  a  Skull  and  Crossbones.  The 
eyes  of  the  mischievous  twins  twinkled  with  delight 
when  they  saw  it,  and  they  carried  it  to  the  barn 
for  prompt  perusal.  It  read  as  follows: 

"Miss  Constance  Starr  humbly  and  respectfully 
craves  admittance  into  the  Ancient  and  Honorable 
Organization  of  Skull  and  Crossbones." 

The  twins  pondered  long  on  a  fitting  reply,  and 
the  next  afternoon  the  postman  brought  a  letter 
for  Connie,  waiting  impatiently  for  it.  She  had 
approached  the  twins  about  it  at  noon  that  day. 

"Did  you  get  my  application  ?"  she  had  whispered 
nervously. 

But  the  twins  had  stared  her  out  of  countenancev 
and  Connie  realized  that  she  had  committed  a  seri- 
ous breach  of  secret  society  etiquette. 

But  here  was  the  letter !    Her  fingers  trembled  as 


84     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

she  opened  it.  It  was  decorated  lavishly  with  skulls 
and  crossbones,  splashed  with  red  ink,  supposedly 
blood,  and  written  in  the  same  suggestive  color. 

"Skull  and  Crossbones  has  heard  the  plea  of  Miss 
Constance  Starr.  If  she  present  herself  at  the  Par- 
sonage Haymow  this  evening,  at  eight  o'clock,  she 
shall  learn  the  will  of  the  Society  regarding  her 
petition." 

Connie  was  jubilant!  In  a  flash,  she  saw  herself 
admitted  to  the  mysterious  Barnyard  Order,  and 
began  working  out  a  name  for  her  own  designation 
after  entrance.  It  was  a  proud  day  for  her. 

By  the  time  the  twins  had  finished  washing  the 
supper  dishes,  it  was  dark.  Constance  glanced  out 
of  the  window  apprehensively.  She  now  -remem- 
bered that  eight  o'clock  was  very,  very  late,  and 
that  the  bam  was  a  long  way  from  the  house !  And 
up  in  the  haymow,  too!  And  such  a  mysterious 
bloody  society!  Her  heart  quaked  within  her.  So 
she  approached  the  twins  respectfully,  and  said  in 
an  offhand  way : 

"I  can  go  any  time  now.  Just  let  me  know  when 
you're  ready,  and  I'll  go  right  along  with  you." 

But  Ihe  twins  stared  at  her  again  in  an  amazing 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  85 

and  overbearing  fashion,  and  vouchsafed  no  reply. 
Connie,  however,  determined  to  keep  a  watchful  eye 
upon  them,  and  when  they  started  barnward,  she 
would  trail  closely  along  in  their  rear.  It  was  a 
quarter  to  eight,  and  fearfully  dark,  when  she  sud- 
denly remembered  that  they  had  been  up-stairs  an 
unnaturally  long  time.  She  rushed  up  in  a  panic. 
They  were  not  there.  She  ran  through  the  house. 
They  were  not  to  be  found  The  dreadful  truth 
overwhelmed  her, — the  twins  were  already  in  the 
haymow,  the  hour  had  come,  and  she  must  go  forth, 

Breathlessly,  she  slipped  out  of  the  back  door, 
and  closed  it  softly  behind  her.  She  could  not  dis- 
tinguish the  dark  outlines  of  the  barn  in  the  equal 
darkness  of  the  autumn  night.  She  gave  a  long 
sobbing  gasp  as  she  groped  her  way  forward.  As 
she  neared  the  barn,  she  was  startled  to  hear  from 
the  haymow  over  her  head,  deep  groans  as  of  a  soul 
in  mortal  agony.  Something  had  happened  to  the 
twins! 

"Girls!  Girls!"  she  cried,  forgetting  for  the  mo- 
ment her  own  sorry  state.  "What  is  the  matter? 
Twins!" 

Sepulchral  silence!    And  Connie  knew  that  this 


86     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

was  the  dreadful  Skull  and  Bones.  Her  teeth  chat- 
tered as  she  stood  there,  irresolute  in  the  intense 
and  throbbing  darkness. 

"It's  only  the  twins,"  she  assured  herself  over 
and  over,  and  began  fumbling  with  the  latch  of  the 
barn  door,— but  her  fingers  were  stiff  and  cold. 
Suddenly  from  directly  above  her,  there  came  the 
hideous  clanking  of  iron  chains.  Connie  had  read 
ghost  stories,  and  she  knew  the  significance  of 
clanking  chains,  but  she  stood  her  ground  in  spite 
of  the  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  fly.  After  the 
clanking,  the  loud  and  clamorous  peal  of  a  bell 
rang  out 

"It's  that  old  cow  bell  they  found  in  the  field," 
she  whispered  practically,  but  found  it  none  the 
less  horrifying. 

Finally  she  stepped  into  the  blackness  of  the  barn, 
found  the  ladder  leading  to  the  haymow  and  began 
slowly  climbing.  But  her  own  weight  seemed  a  tre- 
mendous thing,  and  she  had  difficulty  in  raising  her- 
self from  step  to  step.  She  comforted  herself  with 
the  reflection  that  at  the  top  were  the  twins, — com- 
pany and  triumph  hand  in  hand.  But  when  she 
reached  the  top,  and  peered  around  her,  she  found 
little  comfort, — and  no  desirable  company  f ' 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  87 

A  small  barrel  draped  in  black  stood  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  mow,  and  on  it  a  lighted  candle  gave  out 
a  feeble  flickering  ray  which  emphasized  the  dark- 
ness around  it.  On  either  side  of  the  black-draped 
barrel  stood  a  motionless  figure,  clothed  in  somber 
black.  On  the  head  of  one  was  a  skull, — not  a  really 
skull,  just  a  pasteboard  imitation,  but  it  was  just 
as  awful  to  Connie.  On  the  head  of  the  other 
were  crossbones. 

"Kneel,"  commanded  the  hoarse  voice  of  Skull, 
in  which  Connie  could  faintly  distinguish  the  tone 
of  Lark. 

She  knelt, — an  abject  quivering  neophyte. 

"Hear  the  will  of  Skutt  and  Crossbones,"  chanted 
Crossbones  in  a  shrill  monotone. 

Then  Skull  took  up  the  strain  once  more.  "Skull 
efnd  Crossbones,  great  in  mercy  and  in  conde- 
scension, has  listened  graciously  to  the  prayer  of 
Constance,  the  Seeker.  Hear  the  will  of  the  Great 
Spirit!  If  the  Seeker  will,  for  the  length  of  two 
weeks,  submit  herself  to  the  will  of  Skull  and  Cross- 
bones, she  shall  be  admitted  into  the  Ancient  and 
Honorable  Order.  If  the  Seeker  accepts  this  con- 
dition, she  must  bow  herself  to  the  ground  three 
times,  in  token  of  submission." 


88     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"There's  no  ground  here,"  came  a  small  faint 
voice  from  the  kneeling  Seeker. 

"The  floor,  madam,"  Skull  explained  sternly.  "If 
the  Seeker  accepts  the  condition, — to  submit  her- 
self absolutely  to  the  will  of  Skull  and  Crossbones 
for  two  entire  weeks, — she  shall  bow  herself  three 
times." 

Constance  hesitated.  It  was  so  grandly  ex- 
pressed that  she  hardly  understood  what  they 
wanted.  Carol  came  to  her  rescue. 

"That  means  you've  got  to  do  everything  Lark 
and  I  tell  you  for  two  weeks,"  she  said  in  her  nat- 
ural voice. 

Then  Constance  bowed  herself  three  times, — al- 
though she  lost  her  balance  in  the  act,  and  Carol 
forgot  her  dignity  and  gave  way  to  laughter,  swiftly 
subdued,  however. 

"Arise  and  approach  the  altar,"  she  commanded 
in  the  shrill  voice,  which  yet  gave  signs  of  laughter. 

Constance  arose  and  approached. 
»  "Upon  the  altar,  before  the  Eternal  Light,  you 
will  find  a  small  black  bow,  with  a  drop  of  human 
blood  in  the  center.  This  is  the  badge  of  your 
pledgedom.  You  must  wear  it  day  and  night,  dur- 
ing the  entire  two  weeks.  After  that,  if  all  is  well. 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  89- 

you  shall  be  received  into  full  membership.  If  you 
break  your  pledge  to  the  Order,  it  must  be  restored 
at  once  to  Skull  and  Crossbones.  Take  it,  and  pin 
it  upon  your  breast." 

Constance  did  so, — and  her  breast  heaved  with 
rapture  and  awe  in  mingling. 

Then  a  horrible  thing  happened.  The  flame  of 
the  "Eternal  Light"  was  suddenly  extinguished, 
and  Carol  exclaimed,  "The  ceremony  is  ended.  Re- 
turn, damsel,  to  thine  abode." 

A  sound  of  scampering  feet, — and  Constance 
knew  that  the  Grand  Officials  had  fled,  and  she  was- 
alone  in  the  dreadful  darkness.  She  called  after 
them  pitifully,  but  she  heard  the  slam  of  the  kitchen 
door  before  she  had  even  reached  the  ladder. 

It  was  a  sobbing  and  miserable  neophyte  wha 
stumbled  into  the  kitchen  a  few  seconds  later.  The 
twins  were  bending  earnestly  over  their  Latin  gram- 
mars by  the  side  of  the  kitchen  fire,  and  did  not 
raise  their  eyes  as  the  Seeker  burst  into  the 
room.  Constance  sat  down,  and  gasped  and 
quivered  for  a  while.  Then  she  looked  down  com- 
placently at  the  little  black  bow  with  its  smudge  of 
red  ink,  and  sighed  contentedly. 

The  week  that  followed  was  a  gala  one  for  the 


90      PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

twins  of  Skull  and  Crossbones.  Constance  swept 
their  room,  made  their  bed,  washed  their  dishes,  did 
their  chores,  and  in  every  way  behaved  as  a  model 
pledge  of  the  Ancient  and  Honorable.  The  twins 
were  gracious  but  firm.  There  was  no  arguing,  and 
no  faltering.  "It  is  the  will  of  Skull  and  Cross- 
bones  that  the  damsel  do  this,"  they  would  say. 
And  the  damsel  did  it. 

Prudence  did  not  feel  it  was  a  case  that  called 
for  her  interference.  So  she  sat  back  and  watched, 
while  the  twins  told  stories,  read  and  frolicked,  and 
Constance  did  their  daily  tasks. 

So  eight  days  passed,  and  then  came  Waterloo. 
Constance  returned  home  after  an  errand  down- 
town, and  in  her  hand  she  carried  a  great  golden 
pear.  Perhaps  Constance  would  have  preferred 
that  she  escape  the  notice  of  the  twins  on  this  oc- 
casion, but  as  luck  would  have  it,  she  passed  Carol 
in  the  hall. 

"Gracious!  What  a  pear!  Where  did  you  get  it?" 
demanded  Carol  covetously. 

"I  met  Mr.  Arnold  down-town,  and  he  bought  it 
forme.  He's  very  fond  of  me.  It  cost  him  a  dime, 
too,  for  just  this  one.  Isn't  it  a  beauty?"  And 
Connie  licked  her  lips  suggestively. 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  91 

Carol  licked  hers,  too,  thoughtfully.  Then  she 
called  up  the  stairs,  "Lark,  come  here,  quick!" 

Lark  did  so,  and  duly  exclaimed  and  admired. 
Then  she  said  significantly,  "I  suppose  you  are  go- 
ing to  divide  with  us  ?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Connie  with  some  indignation. 
"I'm  going  to  cut  it  in  five  pieces  so  Prudence  and 
Fairy  can  have  some,  too." 

A  pause,  while  Carol  and  Lark  gazed  at  each 
other  soberly.  Mentally,  each  twin  was  figuring 
how  big  her  share  would  be  when  the  pear  was  di- 
vided in  fives.  Then  Lark  spoke. 

"It  is  the  will  of  Skull  and  Crossbones  that  this 
luscious  fruit  be  turned  over  to  them  immediately." 

Constance  faltered,  held  it  out,  drew  it  back. 

"If  I  do,  I  suppose  you'll  give  me  part  of  it, 
anyhow,"  she  said,  and  her  eyes  glittered. 

"Not  so,  damsel,"  said  Carol  ominously.  "The 
Ancient  and  Honorable  takes, — it  never  gives." 

For  a  moment  Constance  wavered.  Then  she 
flamed  into  sudden  anger.  "I  won't  do  it,  so  there !" 
she  cried.  "I  think  you're  mean  selfish  pigs,  that's 
what  I  think !  Taking  my  very  own  pear,  and — but 
you  won't  get  it!  I  don't  care  if  I  never  get  into 
your  silly  old  society, — you  don't  get  a  bite  of  this 


92      PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

pear,  I  can  tell  you  that !"  And  Constance  rushed 
up-stairs  and  slammed  a  door.  A  few  seconds  later 
the  door  opened  again,  and  her  cherished  badge 
was  flung  down  upon  Skull  and  Crossbones. 

"There's  your  old  black  string  smeared  up  with 
red  ink!"  she  yelled  at  them  wildly.  And  again  the 
door  slammed. 

Carol  picked  up  the  insulted  badge,  and  studied 
it  thoughtfully.  Lark  spoke  first. 

"It  occurs  to  me,  Fair  Gwendolyn,  that  we  would 
do  well  to  keep  this  little  scene  from  the  ears  of 
the  just  and  righteous  Prudence." 

"Right,  as  always,  Brave  Knight,"  was  the  wom- 
anly retort.  And  the  twins  betook  themselves  to 
the  haymow  in  thoughtful  mood. 

A  little  later,  when  Prudence  and  Fairy  came 
laughing  into  the  down-stairs  hall,  a  white-faced 
Constance  met  them.  "Look,"  she  said,  holding 
out  a  pear,  divided  into  three  parts,  just  like  Gaul. 
"Mr.  Arnold  gave  me  this  pear,  and  here's  a  piece 
for  each  of  you." 

The  girls  thanked  her  warmly,  but  Prudence 
paused  with  her  third  almost  touching  her  lips. 
""How  about  the  twins?"  she  inquired.  "Aren't 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  93 

they  at  home?  Won't  they  break  your  pledge  if 
you  leave  them  out?" 

Constance  looked  up  sternly.  "I  offered  them 
some  half  an  hour  ago,  and  they  refused  it,"  she 
said.  "And  they  have  already  put  me  out  of  the 
society!"  There  was  tragedy  in  the  childish  face, 
and  Prudence  put  her  arms  around  this  baby-sister. 

"Tell  Prue  all  about  it,  Connie,"  she  said.  But 
Constance  shook  her  head. 

"It  can't  be  talked  about.  Go  on  and  eat  your 
pear.  It  is  good." 

"Was  it  all  right?"  questioned  Prudence.  "Did 
the  twins  play  fair,  Connie?" 

"Yes,"  said  Constance.  "It  was  all  right  Don't 
talk  about  it." 

But  in  two-  days  Constance  repented  of  her  rash- 
ness. In  three  days  she  was  pleading  for  forgive- 
ness. And  in  four  days  she  was  starting  in  on  an- 
other two  weeks  of  pledgedom,  and  the  desecrated' 
ribbon  with  its  drop  of  blood  reposed  once  more 
on  her  ambitious  breast. 

For  three  days  her  service  was  sore  indeed,  for 
the  twins  informed  her,  with  sympathy,  that  she 
must  be  punished  for  insubordination.  "But  after 


94      PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

that,  we'll  be  just  as  easy  on  you  as  anything,  Con- 
nie," they  told  her.  "So  don't  you  get  sore  now. 
In  three  days,  we'll  let  up  on  you." 

A  week  passed,  ten  days,  and  twelve.  Then  came 
a  golden  October  afternoon  when  the  twins  sat  in 
the  haymow  looking  out  upon  a  mellow  world.  Con- 
stance was  in  the  yard,  reading  a  fairy  story.  The 
situation  was  a  tense  one,  for  the  twins  were 
hungry,  and  time  was  heavy  on  their  hands. 

"The  apple  trees  in  Avery's  orchard  are  just 
loaded,"  said  Lark  aimlessly.  "And  there  are  lots 
on  the  ground,  too.  I  saw  them  when  I  was  out 
in  the  field  this  morning." 

"Some  of  the  trees  are  close  to  our  fence,  too," 
said  Carol  slowly.  "Very  close.'* 

Lark  glanced  up  with  sudden  interest  "That's 
so,"  she  said.  "And  the  wires  on  the  fence  are 
awfully  loose." 

Carol  gazed  down  into  the  yard  where  Constance 
was  absorbed  in  her  book.  "Constance  oughtn't 
to  read  as  much  as  she  does,"  she  argued.  "It's 
so  bad  for  the  eyes." 

"Yes,  and  what's  more,  she's  been  getting  off  too 
easy  the  last  few  days.  The  time  is  nearly  up." 

"That's  so,"  said  Lark.    "Let's  call  her  up  here." 


95 

This  was  done  at  once,  and  the  unfortunate  Con- 
stance walked  reluctantly  toward  the  barn,  her  fas- 
cinating story  still  in  her  hand. 

"You  see,  they've  got  more  apples  than  they 
need,  and  those  on  the  ground  are  just  going  to 
waste,"  continued  Carol,  pending  the  arrival  of  the 
little  pledge.  "The  chickens  are  pecking  at  them, 
and  ruining  them." 

"It's  criminal  destruction,  that's  what  it  is,"  de- 
clared Lark. 

Connie  stood  before  them  respectfully,  as  they 
had  instructed  her  to  stand.  The  twins  hesitated, 
each  secretly  hoping  the  other  would  voice  the  order. 
But  Lark  as  usual  was  obliged  to  be  the  spokesman. 

"Damsel,"  she  said,  "it  is  the  will  of  Skull  and 
Crossbones  that  you  hie  ye  to  yonder  orchard, — 
Avery's,  I  mean, — and  bring  hither  some  of  the 
golden  apples  basking  in  the  sun." 

"What!"  ejaculated  Connie,  startled  out  of  her 
respect. 

Carol  frowned. 

i 

Connie  hastened  to  modify  her  tone.  "Did  they 
say  you  might  have  them?"  she  inquired  politely. 

"That  concerns  thee  not,  'tis  for  thee  only  to 
render  obedience  to  the  orders  of  the  Society.  Go 


96     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

out  through  our  field  and  sneak  under  the  fence 
where  the  wires  are  loose,  and  hurry  back.  We're 
awfully  hungry.  The  trees  are  near  the  fence. 
There  isn't  any  danger." 

"But  it's  stealing,"  objected  Connie.  "What  will 
Prudence " 

"Damsel !"  And  Connie  turned  to  obey  with  de- 
spair in  her  heart. 

"Bring  twelve,"  Carol  called  after  her,  "that'll 
be  four  apiece.  And  hurry,  Connie.  And  see 
they  don't  catch  you  while  you're  about  it." 

After  she  had  gone,  the  twins  lay  back  thought- 
fully on  the  hay  and  stared  at  the  cobwebby  roof 
above  them. 

"It's  a  good  thing  Prudence  and  Fairy  are  down- 
town," said  Lark  sagely. 

"Yes,  or  we'd  catch  it,"  assented  Carol.  "But  I 
don't  see  why!  The  Averys  have  too  many  apples, 
and  they  are  going  to  waste.  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Avery 
would  rather  let  us  have  them  than  the  chickens." 

They  lay  in  silence  for  a  while.  Something  was 
hurting  them,  but  whether  it  was  their  fear  of  the 
wrath  of  Prudence,  or  the  twinges  of  tender  con- 
sciences,— who  can  say? 

"She's  an  unearthly  long  time   about  it,"    ex- 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  97 

claimed  Lark,  at  last.  "Do  you  suppose  they  caught 
her?" 

This  was  an  awful  thought,  and  the  girls  were 
temporarily  suffocated.  But  they  heard  the  barn 
door  swinging  beneath  them,  and  sighed  with  re- 
lief. It  was  Connie !  She  climbed  the  ladder  skil- 
fully, and  poured  her  golden  treasure  before  the 
arch  thieves,  Skull  and  Crossbones. 

There  were  eight  big  tempting  apples. 

"Hum!  Eight,"  said  Carol  sternly.  "I  said 
twelve." 

"Yes,  but  I  was  afraid  some  one  was  coming.  I 
heard  such  a  noise  through  the  grapevines,  so  I  got 
what  I  could  and  ran  for  it.  There's  three  apiece 
for  you,  and  two  for  me,"  said  Connie,  sitting  down 
sociably  beside  them  on  the  hay. 

But  Carol  rose.  "Damsel,  begone,"  she  ordered. 
"When  Skull  and  Crossbones  feast,  thou  canst  not 
yet  share  the  festive  board.  Rise  thee,  and  speed." 

Connie  rose,  and  walked  soberly  toward  the  lad- 
der. But  before  she  disappeared  she  fired  this  parU 
ing  shot,  "I  don't  want  any  of  them.  Stolen  ap- 
ples don't  taste  very  good,  I  reckon." 

Carol  and  Lark  had  the  grace  to  flush  a  little  at 
this,  but  however  the  stolen  apples  tasted,  the 


98   PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

twins  had  no  difficulty  in  disposing  of  them.  Then, 
full  almost  beyond  the  point  of  comfort,  they  slid 
down  the  hay-chutes,  went  out  the  back  way, 
climbed  over  the  chicken  coops, — not  because  it  was 
necessary,  but  because  it  was  their  idea  of  amuse- 
ment,— and  went  for  a  walk  in  the  field.  At  the 
farthest  corner  of  the  field  they  crawled  under  the 
fence,  cut  through  a  neighboring  potato  patch,  and 
came  out  on  the  street  Then  they  walked  respect- 
ably down  the  sidewalk,  turned  the  corner  and 
came  quietly  in  through  the  front  door  of  the  par- 
sonage. 

Prudence  was  in  the  kitchen  preparing  the  eve- 
ning meal.  Fairy  was  in  the  sitting-room,  busy 
with  her  books.  The  twins  set  the  table  con- 
scientiously, filled  the  wood-box,  and  in  every  way 
labored  irreproachably.  But  Prudence  had  no  word 
of  praise  for  them  that  evening.  She  hardly  seemed 
to  know  they  were  about  the  place.  She  went  about 
her  work  with  a  pale  face,  and  never  a  smile  to 
be  seen. 

Supper  was  nearly  ready  when  Connie  saun- 
tered in  from  the  barn.  After  leaving  the  haymow, 
she  had  found  a  cozy  corner  in  the  corn-crib,  with 
two  heavy  lap  robes  discarded  by  the  twins  in  their 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  99 

flight  from  wolves,  and  had  settled  down  there  to 
finish  her  story.  As  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen, 
Prudence  turned  to  her  with  such  a  sorry,  reproach- 
ful gaze  that  Connie  was  frightened. 

"Are  you  sick,  Prue?"  she  gasped. 

Prudence  did  not  answer.  She  went  to  the  door 
and  called  Fairy.  "Finish  getting  supper,  will  you. 
Fairy?  And  when  you  are  all  ready,  you  and  the 
twins  go  right  on  eating.  Don't  wait  for  father, — 
he  isn't  coming  home  until  evening.  Come  up-stairs 
with  me,  Connie ;  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

Connie  followed  her  sister  soberly,  and  the  twins 
flashed  at  each  other  startled  and  questioning  looks. 

The  three  girls  were  at  the  table  when  Prudence 
came  into  the  dining-room  alone.  She  fixed  a  tray- 
supper  quietly  and  carried  it  off  up-stairs.  Then 
she  came  back  and  sat  down  by  the  table.  But  her 
face  bore  marks  of  tears,  and  she  had  no  appetite. 
The  twins  had  felt  small  liking  for  their  food  be- 
fore, now  each  mouthful  seemed  to  choke  them. 
But  they  dared  not  ask  a  question.  They  were 
devoutly  thankful  when  Fairy  finally  voiced  their 
interest. 

"What  is  the  matter?  Has  Connie  been  in  mis- 
chief?" 


100     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"It's  worse  than  that,"  faltered  Prudence,  tears 
rushing  to  her  eyes  again. 

"Why,  Prudence!  What  in  the  world  has  she 
done?" 

"I  may  as  well  tell  you,  I  suppose, — you'll  have 
to  know  it  sooner  or  later.  She — went  out  into 
Avery's  orchard  and  stole  some  apples  this  after- 
noon. I  was  back  in  the  alley  seeing  if  Mrs.  Moon 
could  do  the  washing,  and  I  saw  her  from  the 
other  side.  She  went  from  tree  to  tree,  and  when 
she  got  through  the  fence  she  ran.  There's  no 
mistake  about  it, — she  confessed."  The  twins 
looked  up  in  agony,  but  Prudence's  face  reassured 
them.  Constance  had  told  no  tales.  "I  have  told 
her  she  must  spend  all  of  her  time  up-stairs  alone 
for  a  week,  taking  her  meals  there,  too.  She  will 
go  to  school,  of  course,  but  that  is  all.  I  want  her 
to  see  the  awfulness  of  it.  I  told  her  I  didn't  think 
we  wanted  to  eat  with— a  thief— just  yet !  I  said 
we  must  get  used  to  the  idea  of  it  first.  She  is 
heartbroken,  but— I  must  make  her  see  it!" 

That  was  the  end  of  supper.  No  one  attempted 
to  eat  another  bite.  After  the  older  girls  had  gone 
into  the  sitting-room,  Carol  and  Lark  went  about 
their  work  with  stricken  faces. 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  101 

"She's  a  little  brick  not  to  tell,"  whispered  Lark. 

"I'm  going  to  give  her  that  pearl  pin  of  mine 
she  always  liked,"  said  Carol  in  a  hushed  voice. 

"I'll  give  her  my  blue  ribbon,  too, — she  loves 
blue  so.  And  to-morrow  I'll  take  that  quarter  I've 
saved  and  buy  her  a  whole  quarter's  worth  of 
candy." 

But  that  night  when  the  twins  went  up  to  bed, 
they  were  doomed  to  disappointment.  They  had 
no  chance  of  making  it  up  with  Constance.  For 
Prudence  had  moved  her  small  bed  out  of  the  twins' 
room,  and  had  placed  it  in  the  front  room  occupied 
by  herself  and  Fairy.  They  asked  if  they  might 
speak  to  Constance,  but  Prudence  went  in  with  them 
to  say  good  night  to  her.  The  twins  broke  down 
and  cried  as  they  saw  the  pitiful  little  figure  with 
the  wan  and  tear-stained  face.  They  threw  their 
arms  around  her  passionately  and  kissed  her  many 
times.  But  they  went  to  bed  without  saying  any- 
thing. 

Hours  later,  Lark  whispered,  "Carol!  are  you 
asleep  ?" 

"No.    I  can't  go  to  sleep  somehow." 

"Neither  can  I.  Do  you  think  we'd  better  tell 
Prudence  all  about  it?" 


102  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Carol  squirmed  in  the  bed.  "I— suppose  we 
had,"  she  said  reluctantly. 

"But — it'll  be  lots  worse  for  us  than  for  Connie," 
Lark  added.  "We're  so  much  older,  and  we  made 
her  do  it." 

"Yes,  and  w^  ate  all  the  apples,"  mourned  Carol. 

"Maybe  we'd  better  just  let  it  go,"  suggested 
Lark. 

"And  we'll  make  it  up  to  Connie  afterwards," 
said  Carol. 

"Now,  you  be  careful  and  not  give  it  away, 
Carol." 

"You  see  that  you  don't." 

But  it  was  a  sorry  night  for  the  twins.  The  next 
morning  they  set  off  to  school,  with  no  chance  for 
anything  but  a  brief  good  morning  with. Connie, — 
given  in  the  presence  of  Prudence.  Half-way  down 
the  parsonage  walk,  Carol  said: 

"Oh,  wait  a  minute,  Lark.  I  left  my  note-book 
on  the  table."  And  Lark  walked  slowly  while  Carol 
went  rushing  back.  She  found  Prudence  in  the 
kitchen,  and  whispered: 

"Here— here's  a  note,  Prudence.  Don't  read  it 
until  after  I've  gone  to  school, — at  ten  o'clock  you 
may  read  it  Will  you  promise.?" 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  103 

Prudence  laughed  a  little,  but  she  promised,  and 
laid  the  note  carefully  away  to  wait  the  appointed 
hour  for  its  perusal.  As  the  clock  struck  ten  she 
went  to  the  mantle,  and  took  it  down.  This  is  what 
Carol  had  written: 

"Oh,  Prudence,  do  please  forgive  me,  and  don't 
punish  Connie  any  more.  You  can  punish  me  any 
way  you  like,  and  I'll  be  glad  of  it.  It  was  all  my 
fault.  I  made  her  go  and  get  the  apples  for  me, 
and  I  ate  them.  Connie  didn't  eat  one  of  them.  She 
said  stolen  apples  would  not  taste  very  good.  It 
was  all  my  fault,  and  I'm  so  sorry.  I  was  such  a 
coward  I  didn't  dare  tell  you  last  night.  Will  you 
forgive  me?  But  you  must  punish  me  as  hard  as 
ever  you  can.  But  please,  Prudence,  won't  you 
punish  me  some  way  without  letting  Lark  know 
about  it  ?  Please,  please,  Prudence,  don't  let  Larkie 
know.  You  can  tell  Papa  and  Fairy  so  they  will 
despise  me,  but  keep  it  from  my  twin.  If  you  love 
me,  Prudence,  don't  let  Larkie  know." 

As  Prudence  read  this  her  face  grew  very  stern. 
Carol's  fault!  And  she  was  ashamed  to  have  her 
much-loved  twin  know  of  her  disgrace.  At  that 
moment,  Prudence  heard  some  one  running  through 
the  hall,  and  thrust  the  note  hastily  into  her  dress. 
It  was  Lark,  and  she  flung  herself  wildly  upon 
Prudence,  sobbing  bitterly. 


104     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"What  is  the  matter,  Lark?"  she  cried,  really 
frightened.  "Are  you  sick?" 

"Heartsick,  that's  all,"  wailed  Lark.  "I  told  the 
teacher  I  was  sick  so  I  could  come  home,  but  I'm 
not.  Oh,  Prudence,  I  know  you'll  despise  and 
abominate  me  all  the  rest  of  your  life,  and  every- 
body will,  and  I  deserve  it.  For  I  stole  those  apples 
myself.  That  is,  I  made  Connie  go  and  get  them 
for  me.  She  didn't  want  to.  She  begged  not  to.  But 
I  made  her.  She  didn't  eat  one  of  them, — I  did  it. 
And  she  felt  very  badly  about  it.  Oh,  Prudence, 
you  can  do  anything  in  the  world  to  me, — I  don't 
care  how  horrible  it  is;  I  only  hope  you  will.  But, 
Prudence,  you  won't  let  Carol  know,  will  you  ?  Oh, 
spare  me  that,  Prudence,  please.  That's  my  last 
request,  that  you  keep  it  from  Carol." 

Prudence  was  surprised  and  puzzled.  She  drew 
the  note  from  her  pocket,  and  gave  it  to  Lark. 
"Carol  gave  me  that  before  she  went  to  school," 
she  explained.  "Read  it,  and  tell  me  what  you  are 
driving  at  I  think  you  are  both  crazy.  Or  maybe 
you  are  just  trying  to  shield  poor  Connie." 

Lark  read  Carol's  note,  and  gasped,  and — burst 
out  laughing!  The  shame,  and  bitter  weeping, 
and  nervousness,  had  rendered  her  hysterical,  and 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  105 

now  she  laughed  and  cried  until  Prudence  was 
alarmed  again. 

In  time,  however,  Lark  was  able  to  explain.  "We 
both  did  it,"  she  gasped,  "the  Skull  and  Cross- 
bones.  And  we  both  told  the  truth  about  it.  We 
made  her  go  and  get  them  for  us,  and  we  ate  them, 
and  she  didn't  want  to  go.  I  advised  Carol  not 
to  tell,  and  she  advised  me  not  to.  All  the  way  to 
school  this  morning,  we  kept  advising  each  other 
not  to  say  a  word  about  it.  But  I  intended  all  the 
time  to  pretend  I  was  sick,  so  I  could  come  and 
confess  alone.  I  wanted  to  take  the  punishment  for 
both  of  us,  so  Carol  could  get  out.  I  guess  that's 
what  she  thought,  too.  Bless  her  little  old  heart, 
as  if  I'd  let  her  be  punished  for  my  fault.  And  it 
was  mostly  my  fault,  too,  Prue,  for  I  mentioned 
the  apples  first  of  all." 

Prudence  laughed, — it  was  really  ludicrous.  But 
when  she  thought  of  loyal  little  Connie,  sobbing  all 
through  the  long  night,  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes 
again.  She  went  quickly  to  the  telephone,  and  called 
up  the  school  building  next  door  to  the  parsonage. 

"May  I  speak  to  Constance  Starr,  Mr.  Imes?" 
she  asked.  "It  is  very  important.  This  is  Pru- 
dence, her  sister."  And  when  Connie  came  to  the 


106  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

telephone,  she  cried,  "Oh,  you  blessed  little 
child,  why  didn't  you  tell  me?  Will  you  forgive 
me,  Connie?  I  ought  to  have  made  you  tell  me  all 
about  it,  but  I  was  so  sorry,  I  couldn't  bear  to  talk 
much  about  it  The  twins  have  told  me.  You're  a 
dear,  sweet,  good  little  darling,  that's  what  you 
are." 

"Oh,  Prudence !"  That  was  all  Connie  said,  but 
something  in  her  voice  made  Prudence  hang  up  the 
receiver  quickly,  and  cry  bitterly! 

That  noon  Prudence  pronounced  judgment  on 
the  sinners,  but  her  eyes  twinkled,  for  Carol  and 
Lark  had  scolded  each  other  roundly  for  giving 
things  away! 

"Connie  should  have  refused  to  obey  you,"  she 
said  gently,  holding  Connie  in  her  arms.  "She 
knew  it  was  wrong.  But  she  has  been  punished 
more  than  enough.  But  you  twins!  In  the  first 
place,  I  right  now  abolish  the  Skull  and  Crossbones 
forever  and  ever.  And  you  can  not  play  in  the 
barn  again  for  a  month.  And  you  must  go  over 
to  the  Averys  this  afternoon,  and  tell  them  about 
it,  and  pay  for  the  apples.  And  you  must  send  all 
of  your  spending  money  for  the  next  month  to  that 
woman  who  is  gathering  up  things  for  the  bad  little 


A  SECRET  SOCIETY  107 

children  in  the  Reform  School, — that  will  help  you 
remember  what  happens  to  boys  and  girls  who  get 
in  the  habit  of  taking  things  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment !" 

The  twins  accepted  all  of  this  graciously,  except 
that  which  referred  to  confessing  their  sin  to  their 
neighbors.  That  did  hurt!  The  twins  were  so  su- 
perior, and  admirable !  They  couldn't  bear  to  ruin 
their  reputations.  But  Prudence  stood  firm,  in 
spite  of  their  weeping  and  wailing.  And  that  after- 
noon two  shamefaced  sorry  girls  crept  meekly  in 
at  the  Averys'  door  to  make  their  peace. 

"But  about  the  Skull  and  Crossbones,  it's  mostly 
punishment  for  me,  Prue,"  said  Connie  regretfully, 
"for  the  twins  have  been  in  it  ever  since  we  came 
to  Mount  Mark,  and  I  never  got  in  at  all!  And  I 
wanted  them  to  call  me  Lady  Magdalina  Feather- 
ingale."  And  Connie  sighed. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  TWINS  STICK  UP  FOR  THE  BIBLE 

PRUDENCE  had  been  calling  on  a  "sick  mem- 
ber." Whenever  circumstances  permitted  she 
gladly  served  as  pastoral  assistant  for  her  father, 
but  she  always  felt  that  raising  the  family  was  her 
one  big  job,  and  nothing  was  allowed  to  take  prece- 
dence of  it.  As  she  walked  that  afternoon  down 
Maple  Street, — seemingly  so-called  because  it  was 
bordered  with  grand  old  elms, — she  felt  at  peace 
with  all  the  world.  The  very  sunshine  beaming 
down  upon  her  through  the  huge  skeletons  of  the 
leafless  elms,  was  not  more  care-free  than  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  parsonage.  Parsonage  life  had  been  run- 
ning smoothly  for  as  much  as  ten  days  past,  and 
Prudence,  in  view  of  that  ten  days'  immunity,  was 
beginning  to  feel  that  the  twins,  if  not  Connie  also, 
were  practically  reared! 

"Mount  Mark  is  a  dear  old  place, — a  duck  of  a 
place,  as  the  twins  would  say, — and  I'm  quite  sorry 
there's  a  five-year  limit  for  Methodist  preachers. 
108 


THE  TWINS  109 

I  should  truly  like  to  live  right  here  until  I  am  old 
and  dead." 

Then  she  paused,  and  bowed,  and  smiled.  She 
did  not  recognize  the  bright-faced  young  woman 
approaching,  but  she  remembered  just  in  time  that 
parsonage  people  are  marked  characters.  So  she 
greeted  the  stranger  cordially. 

"You  are  Miss  Starr,  aren't  you?"  the  bright- 
faced  woman  was  saying.  "I  am  Miss  Allen, — 
the  principal  of  the  high  school,  you  know." 

"Oh,  yes,"  cried  Prudence,  thrusting  forth  her 
hand  impulsively,  "oh,  yes,  I  know.  I  am  so  glad 
to  meet  you." 

Miss  Allen  was  a  young  woman  of  twenty-six, 
with  clear  kind  eyes  and  a  strong  sweet  mouth.  She 
had  about  her  that  charm  of  manner  which  can  only 
be  described  as  winsome  womanliness.  Prudence 
gazed  at  her  with  open  and  honest  admiration.  Such 
a  young  woman  to  be  the  principal  of  a  high  school 
in  a  city  the  size  of  Mount  Mark!  She  must  be 
tremendously  clever.  But  Prudence  did  not  sigh. 
We  can't  all  be  clever,  you  know.  There  must  be 
some  of  us  to  admire  the  rest  of  us! 

The  two  walked  along  together,  chatting  sociably 
on  subjects  that  meant  nothing  to  either  of  them, 


110     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Presently  Miss  Allen  stopped,  and  with  a  graceful 
wave  of  her  hand,  said  lightly : 

"This  is  where  I  am  rooming.  Are  you  in  a  very 
great  hurry  this  afternoon?  I  should  like  to  talk 
to  you  about  the  twins.  Will  you  come  in  ?" 

The  spirits  of  Prudence  fell  earthward  with  a 
clatter !  The  twins !  Whatever  had  they  been  do- 
ing now? 

She  followed  Miss  Allen  into  the  house  and  up 
the  stairs  with  the  joy  quite  quenched  in  her  heart. 
She  did  not  notice  the  dainty  room  into  which 
she  was  conducted.  She  ignored  the  offered  chair, 
and  with  a  dismal  face  turned  toward  Miss  Allen. 

"Oh,  please!  What  have  they  been  doing?  Is 
it  very  awful  ?" 

Miss  Allen  laughed  gaily.  "Oh,  sit  down  and 
don't  look  so  distressed.  It's  nothing  at  all.  They 
haven't  been  doing  anything.  I  just  want  to  dis- 
cuss them  on  general  principles,  you  know.  It's 
my  duty  to  confer  with  the  parents  and  guardians 
of  my  scholars." 

Immensely  relieved,  Prudence  sank  down  in  the 
chair,  and  rocked  comfortably  to  and  fro  a  few 
times.  General  principles,— ah,  blessed  words ! 

"I  suppose  you  know  that  Carol  is  quite  the  idol 


THE  TWINS  in 

of  the  high  school  already.  She  is  the  adored  one 
of  the  place.  You  see,  she  is  not  mixed  up  in  any 
scholastic  rivalry.  Lark  is  one  of  the  very  best  in 
her  class,  and  there  is  intense  rivalry  between  a 
few  of  the  freshmen.  But  Carol  is  out  of  all  that, 
and  every  one  is  free  to  worship  at  her  shrine.  She 
makes  no  pretensions  to  stand  first." 

"Is  she  very  stupid?"  Prudence  was  disap- 
pointed. She  did  so  want  both  of  her  twins  to 
shine. 

"Stupid!  Not  a  bit  of  it.  She  is  a  very  good 
scholar,  much  better  than  the  average.  Our  first 
pupils,  including  Lark,  average  around  ninety-six 
and  seven.  Then  there  are  others  ranging  between 
ninety  and  ninety-four.  Carol  is  one  of  them.  The 
fairly  good  ones  are  over  eighty-five,  and  the  fairly 
bad  ones  are  over  seventy-five,  and  the  hopeless 
ones  are  below  that  This  is  a  rough  way  of  show- 
ing how  they  stand  Lark  is  a  very  fine  scholar, 
really  the  best  in  the  class.  She  not  only  makes 
good  grades,  she  grasps  the  underlying  significance 
of  her  studies.  Very  few  freshmen,  even  among 
the  best,  do  that  She  is  quite  exceptional.  We 
hope  to  make  something  very  big  and  fine  of 
Larkie." 


112  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence's  eyes  shone  with  motherly  pride.  She 
nodded,  striving  to  make  her  voice  natural  and 
matter-of-fact  as  she  answered,  ".Yes,  she  is 
bright." 

"She  certainly  is!  Carol  is  quite  different,  but 
she  is  so  sweet-spirited,  and  vivacious,  and — un- 
snobbish,  if  you  know  what  that  means — that  every 
one  in  high  school,  and  even  the  grammar-grade 
children,  idolize  her.  She  is  very  witty,  but  her  wit 
is  always  innocent  and  kind.  She  never  hurts  any 
one's  feelings.  And  she  is  never  impertinent.  Tbe 
professors  are  as  crazy  about  her  as  the  scholars, — 
forgive  the  slang.  Did  the  twins  ever  tell  you  what 
happened  the  first  day  of  school  ?" 

"No, — tell  me."  Prudence  was  clearly  very 
anxious. 

"I  shall  never  forget  it.  The  freshmen  were 
sent  into  the  recitation  room  to  confer  with  Profes- 
sor Duke  about  text-books,  etc.  Carol  was  one  of 
the  first  in  the  line,  as  they  came  out.  She  sat  down 
in  her  seat  in  the  first  aisle,  with  one  foot  out  at 
the  side.  One  of  the  boys  tripped  over  it.  'Carol/ 
said  Miss  Adams  gently,  'you  forgot  yourself, 
didn't  you?'  And  Carol's  eyes  twinkled  as  she  said, 
'Oh,  no,  Miss  Adams,  if  I  had  I'd  still  be  in  the 


THE  TWINS  113 

recitation  room.' '  Miss  Allen  laughed,  but  Pru- 
dence's eyes  were  agonized. 

"How  hateful  of  her!" 

"Don't  the  twins  tell  you  little  things  that  happen 
at  school, — like  that,  for  instance?" 

"Never!  I  supposed  they  were  perfectly  all 
right." 

"Well,  here's  another.  Twice  a  week  we  havq 
talks  on  First  Aid  to  the  Injured.  Professor  Dukq 
conducts  them.  One  day  he  asked  Carol  what  she 
would  do  if  she  had  a  very  severe  cold,  and  Carol 
said,  Td  soak  my  feet  in  hot  water  and  go  to  bed. 
My  sister  makes  me.' '  Miss  Allen  laughed  again, 
but  Prudence  was  speechless. 

"Sometimes  we  have  talks  on  normal  work,  prac- 
tical informal  discussions.  Many  of  our  scholars 
will  be  country  school-teachers,  you  know.  Miss 
Adams  conducts  these  normal  hours.  One  day  she 
asked  Carol  what  she  would  do  if  she  had  applied 
for  a  school,  and  was  asked  by  the  directors  to  write 
a  thesis  on  student  discipline,  that  they  might  judge 
of  her  and  her  ability  by  it?  Carol  said,  'I'd  get 
Lark  to  write  it  for  me/ ' 

Even  Prudence  laughed  a  little  at  this,  but  she 
said,  "Why  don't  you  scold  her?" 


114  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"We  talked  it  all  over  shortly  after  she  entered 
school.  Miss  Adams  did  not  understand  Carol  at 
first,  and  thought  she  was  a  little  impertinent.  But 
Professor  Duke  and  I  stood  firm  against  even  men- 
tioning it  to  her.  She  is  perfectly  good-natured 
about  it  You  know,  of  course,  Miss  Starr,  that 
we  really  try  to  make  individuals  of  our  scholars. 
So  many,  many  hundreds  are  turned  out  of  the 
public  schools  all  cut  on  one  pattern.  We  do  not 
like  it.  We  fight  against  it.  Carol  is  different  from 
others  by  nature,  and  we're  going  to  keep  her  dif- 
ferent if  possible.  If  we  crush  her  individuality, 
she  will  come  out  just  like  thousands  of  others, — 
all  one  pattern!  Miss  Adams  is  as  fond  of  Carol 
now  as  any  one  of  us.  You  understand  that  we 
could  not  let  impudence  or  impertinence  pass  unre- 
proved,  but  Carol  is  never  guilty  of  that.  She  is 
always  respectful  and  courteous.  But  she  is  spon- 
taneous and  quick-witted,  and  we  are  glad  of  it. 
Do  you  know  what  the  scholars  call  Professor 
Duke?" 

"Professor  Duck,"  said  Prudence  humbly.  "But 
they  mean  it  for  a  compliment.  They  really  admire 
and  like  him  very  much.  I  hope  he  does  not  know 
what  they  call  him." 


THE  TWINS  115 

"He  does!  One  day  he  was  talking  about  the 
nobility  system  in  England.  He  explained  the  dif- 
ference between  dukes,  and  earls,  and  lords,  etc.,  and 
told  them  who  is  to  be  addressed  as  Your  Majesty, 
Your  Highness,  Your  Grace  and  so  on.  Then  he 
said,  'Now,  Carol,  if  I  was  the  king's  eldest  son, 
what  would  you  call  me?'  And  Carol  said,  'I'd 
still  call  you  a  Duck,  Professor, — it  wouldn't  make 
any  difference  to  me.' ' 

Prudence  could  only  sigh. 

"One  other  time  he  was  illustrating  phenomena. 
He  explained  the  idea,  and  tried  to  get  one  of  the 
boys  to  mention  the  word, — phenomenon,  you 
know.  The  boy  couldn't  think  of  it.  Professor 
gave  three  or  four  illustrations,  and  still  the  boy 
couldn't  remember  it.  'Oh,  come  now/  professor 
said,  finally,  'something  unusual,  something  very 
much  out  of  the  ordinary!  Suppose  you  should 
see  a  blackbird  running  a  race  down  the  street  with 
*a  sparrow,  what  would  you  call  it?'  The  boy 
couldn't  imagine,  and  professor  said,  'What  would 
you  call  that,  Carol  ?'  Carol  said,  'A  bad  dream.'  " 

Prudence  smiled  wearily. 

"Sometimes  we  have  discussions  of  moral  points. 
We  take  turns  about  conducting  them,  and  try  to 


116  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

stimulate  their  interest  in  such  things.  We  want  to 
make  them  think,  every  one  for  himself.  One  day 
Professor  Duke  said,  'Suppose  a  boy  in  this  town 
has  a  grudge  against  you, — unjust  and  unfair.  You 
have  tried  one  thing  after  another  to  change  his 
attitude.  But  he  continues  to  annoy  and  inconve- 
nience and  even  hurt  you,  on  every  occasion.  Re- 
member that  you  have  tried  every  ordinary  way  of 
winning  his  good  will.  Now  what  are  you  going 
to  do  as  a  last  resort?'  Carol  said,  'I'll  tell  papa 
on  him.' "  Miss  Allen  laughed  again,  heartily.  "It 
does  have  a  disturbing  effect  on  the  class,  I  admit, 
and  often  spoils  a  good  point,  but  Professor  Duke 
calls  on  Carol  every  time  he  sees  her  eyes  twinkle ! 
He  does  it  on  purpose.  And  Miss  Adams  is  nearly 
as  bad  as  he.  One  day  she  said,  'Suppose  you  have 
unintentionally  done  something  to  greatly  irritate 
and  inconvenience  a  prominent  man  in  town.  He 
knows  you  did  it,  and  he  is  very  angry.  He  is  a 
man  of  sharp  temper  and  disagreeable  manners. 
You  know  that  he  will  be  extremely  unpleasant  and 
insulting  if  you  go  to  him  with  explanations  and 
apologies.  What  are  you  going  to  do?'  'I  think 
I'll  just  keep  out  of  his  way  for  a  few  weeks,'  said 
Carol  soberly." 


THE  TWINS  117 

•*!  hope  she  doesn't  talk  like  that  to  you,  Miss 
Allen." 

Instantly  Miss  Allen  was  grave.  "No,  she  does 
not,  I  am  so  sorry."  Leaning  forward  suddenly, 
she  said,  "Miss  Starr,  why  do  the  twins  dislike 
me?" 

"Dislike  you !"  echoed  Prudence.  "Why,  they  do 
not  dislike  you!  What  in  the  world  makes  you 
think " 

"Oh,  yes  indeed  they  do, — both  of  them.  Now, 
why?  People  generally  like  me.  I  have  always 
been  popular  with  my  students.  This  is  my  sec- 
ond year  here.  Last  year  the  whole  high  school 
stood  by  me  as  one  man.  This  year,  the  freshmen 
started  as  usual.  After  one  week,  the  twins 
changed.  I  knew  it  instantly.  Then  other  fresh- 
men changed.  Now  the  whole  class  comes  as  near 
snubbing  me  as  they  dare.  Do  you  mean  to  say 
they  have  never  told  you  about  it?" 

"Indeed  they  have  not.  And  I  am  sure  you  are 
mistaken.  They  do  like  you.  They  like  every-, 
body." 

"Christian  tolerance,  perhaps,"  smiled  Miss  Allen 
ruefully.  "But  I  want  them  to  like  me  personally 
and  intimately.  I  can  help  the  twins.  I  can  do 


118  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

them  good,  I  know  I  can.  But  they  won't  let  me. 
They  keep  me  at  arm's  length.  They  are  both  dear, 
and  I  love  them.  But  they  freeze  me  to  death! 
Why?" 

"I  can't  believe  it!" 

"But  it  is  true.  Don't  they  talk  of  their  profes- 
sors at  home  at  all  ?" 

"Oh,  often." 

"What  do  they  say  of  us?" 

"Why,  they  say  Miss  Adams  is  a  perfectly  sweet 
old  lamb, — they  do  not  mean  to  be  disrespectful. 
And  they  say  Professor  Duke  is  the  dearest  duck! 
They  almost  swear  by  'Professor  Duck'!" 

"And  what  do  they  say  of  me?" 

Prudence  hesitated,  thinking  hard. 

"Come  now,  what  do  they  say?  We  must  get 
to  the  bottom  of  this." 

"Why,  they  have  said  that  you  are  very  pretty, 
and  most  unbelievably  smart." 

"Oh !  Quite  a  difference  between  sweet  old  lamb, 
and  the  dearest  duck,  and  being  very  pretty  and 
smart!  Do  you  see  it?" 

"Yes,"  confessed  Prudence  reluctantly,  "but  I 
hadn't  thought  of  it  before." 

"Now,  what  is  wrong?    What  have   I   done? 


THE  TWINS  119 

Why,  look  here.  The  twins  think  everything  of 
Professor  Duke,  and  I  am  sure  Carol  deliberately 
neglects  her  science  lessons  in  order  to  be  kept  in 
after  school  by  him.  But  though  she  hates  mathex 
matics, — my  subject, — she  works  at  it  desperately 
so  I  can't  keep  her  in.  She  sits  on  Mr.  Duke's  table 
and  chats  with  him  by  the  hour.  But  she  passes 
rne  up  with  a  curt,  'Good  night,  Miss  Allen.' ' 

"And  Larkie,  too?" 

"Lark  is  worse  than  Carol.  Her  dislike  is 
deeper-seated.  I  believe  I  could  win  Carol  in  time. 
Sometimes  I  waylay  her  when  she  is  leaving  after 
school,  and  try  my  best  But  just  as  she  begins  to 
thaw,  Lark  invariably  comes  up  to  see  if  she  is 
ready  to  go  home,  and  she  looks  at  both  of  us  with 
superior  icy  eyes.  And  Carol  freezes  in  a  second. 
Ordinarily,  she  looks  at  me  with  a  sort  of  sympa- 
thetic pity  and  wonder,  but  Lark  is  always  haughty 
and  nearly  contemptuous.  It  is  different  with  the 
rest  of  the  class.  It  is  nothing  important  to  them. 
The  twins  are  popular  in  the  class,  you  know,  and 
the  others,  realizing  that  they  dislike  me,  hold  aloof 
on  their  account." 

"I  can't  fathom  it,"  said  Prudence. 

"Now,  Professor  Duke  is  very  brilliant  and  clever 


120  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

and  interesting.  And  he  does  like  Carol  tremen- 
dously,— Larkie,  too.  He  says  she  is  the  cleverest 
girl  he  ever  knew.  But  Carol  is  his  favorite.  But 
he  does  not  like  teaching,  and  he  has  not  the  real 
interests  of  the  scholars  at  heart.  Next  year,  he  is 
to  begin  some  very  wonderful  research  work  at  a 
big  salary.  That  is  what  he  loves.  That  is  where 
his  interests  lie.  But  this  year,  being  idle,  and  his 
uncle  being  on  the  school  board  here,  he  accepted 
this  place  as  a  sort  of  vacation  in  the  meanwhile. 
That  is  all  it  means  to  him.  But  I  love  teaching, 
it  is  my  life-work.  I  love  the  young  people,  and  I 
want  to  help  them.  Why  won't  the  twins  give  me 
a  chance?  Surely  I  am  as  attractive  as  Professor 
Duke.  They  are  even  fond  of  Miss  Adams,  whom 
most  people  consider  rather  a  sour  old  maid.  But 
they  have  no  use  for  me.  I  want  you  to  find  out 
the  reason,  and  tell  me.  Will  you  do  it?  They 
will  tell  you  if  you  ask  them,  won't  they?" 

"I  think  so.  It  is  partly  my  fault.  I  am  very 
strict  with  them  about  saying  hateful  things  about 
people.  I  do  not  allow  it.  And  I  insist  that  they  like 
everybody,— if  they  don't,  I  make  them.  So  they 
have  just  kept  it  to  themselves.  But  I  will  do  my 
best" 


THE  TWINS  121 

One  would  have  thought  that  Prudence  carried 
the  responsibility  for  the  entire  public-school  system 
of  the  United  States  upon  her  shoulders  that  night, 
so  anxious  were  her  eyes,  so  grave  her  face.  Supper 
over,'  she  quietly  suggested  to  Fairy  that  she  would 
appreciate  the  absence  of  herself  and  Connie  for  a 
time.  And  Fairy  instantly  realized  that  the  twins 
must  be  dealt  with  seriously  for  something.  So 
she  went  in  search  of  Connie,  and  the  two  set  out 
for  a  long  walk.  Then  Prudence  went  to  the 
kitchen  where  the  twins  were  washing  the  dishes, 
and  as  usual,  laughing  immoderately  over  some- 
thing. 

Prudence  sat  down  and  leaned  her  elbows  on  the 
table,  her  chin  in  her  palms.  "I  met  Miss  Allen 
to-day,"  she  said,  closely  observing  the  faces  of  the 
twins.  A  significant  glance  flashed  between  them, 
and  they  stiffened  instantly. 

"She's  very  pretty  and  sweet,  isn't  she?"  contin- 
ued Prudence. 

"Yes,  very,"  agreed  Lark  without  any  enthusi- 
asm. 

"Such  pretty  hair,"  added  Carol  dispassionately. 

"She  must  be  very  popular  with  the  scholars," 
suggested  Prudence. 


122  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Yes,  most  of  them  are  fond  of  her,"  assented 

Lark. 
"She  has  rather  winsome  manners,  I  think,"  said 

Carol. 

"Which  of  your  professors  do  you  like  best?" 
queried  Prudence. 

"Duck,"  they  answered  unanimously,  and  with 
brightening  faces. 

"Why?" 

"Because  he  is  a  duck,"  said  Carol,  and  they  all 
laughed.  But  Prudence  returned  to  the  charge  with- 
out delay. 

"Do  you  like  Miss  Allen?"  She  was  going 
through  these  questions  with  such  solemnity  that 
the  twins'  suspicions  had  been  aroused  right  at  the 
start.  What  had  Miss  Allen  told  their  sister?  Again 
that  significant  flash  from  twin  to  twin. 

"She  certainly  has  very  likeable  ways,"  said  Lark 
shrewdly. 

"But  do  you  like  her?"  insisted  Prudence. 

"I  would  like  her  very  much  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances," admitted  Carol. 

"What  is  unusual  about  the  circumstances?" 
Prudence  wanted  to  know. 

"Look  here,  Prudence,  what  did  Miss  Allen  tell 


THE  TWINS  123 

you  ?  Was  she  complaining  about  us  ?  We've  been 
very  nice  and  orderly,  I'm  sure."  Lark  was  ag- 
grieved. 

"She  wasn't  complaining.  She  likes  you  both. 
But  she  says  you  do  not  like  her.  I  want  to  know 
why." 

"Well,  if  you  must  know,  Miss  Allen  is  a  here- 
tic," snapped  Lark. 

Then  Prudence  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and 
gazed  at  the  flushed  faces  of  the  twins  for  two  full 
minutes. 

"A — a — a  what  ?"  she  ejaculated,  when  power  of 
speech  returned  to  her. 

"Heretic,"  said  Carol  with  some  relish.  "A  here- 
tic! You  know  what  heresy  is,  don't  you?  We'll 
tell  you  all  about  it  if  you  like,  now  you've  got 
things  started." 

"We  didn't  tell  you  before  because  we  thought 
you  and  father  would  feel  badly  about  sending  us 
to  school  to  a  heretic.  But  don't  you  worry, — Miss 
Allen  hasn't  influenced  us  any." 

"We  haven't  given  her  a  chance,"  said  Carol, 
with  her  impish  smile. 

"Go  on,"  begged  Prudence.  "Tell  me.  You're 
both  crazy,  I  see  that.  But  tell  me!" 


124     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Well,"  began  Lark,  for  Carol  always  relegated 
the  story-telling  to  her  more  gifted  twin,  "we've 
suspected  Miss  Allen  right  from  the  start.  They 
used  to  have  Bible  reading  every  morning  in  school, 
one  chapter,  you  know,  and  then  the  Lord's  prayer. 
After  the  first  week,  Miss  Allen  dropped  it.  We 
thought  that  was  a — a  suspicious  circumstance." 

"Phenomenally  so,"  said  Carol  darkly. 

"But  we  kept  our  suspicions  to  ourselves,  and  we 
didn't  come  across  anything  else  for  several  days. 
We  wouldn't  condemn  anybody  on — on  circumstan- 
tial evidence,  Prue.  We're  very  fair-minded,  you 
know." 

"In  spite  of  being  twins,"  added  Carol. 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  it?"  Prudence  in- 
quired, frowning  at  Carol. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  admitted  Carol,  driven  into  a 
corner.  "I  just  wanted  to  make  it  emphatic." 

"Go  on,  Lark." 

"Well,  there's  a  girl  at  school  named  Hattie 
Simpson.  You  do  not  know  her,  Prue.  We  don't 
associate  with  her.  Oh,  yes,  we  like  her  very  well, 
but  she  isn't  parsonage  material." 

"She's  a  goat,"  put  in  Carol.  "You  needn't 
frown,  Prue,  that's  Bible!  Don't  you  remember 


THE  TWINS  125 

the  sheep  and  the  goats?  I  don't  know  now  just 
what  it  was  they  did,  but  I  know  the  goats  were 
very — very  disreputable  characters!" 

"Go  on,  Lark." 

"Well,  her  folks  are  atheists,  and  she's  art 
atheist,  too.  You  know  what  an  atheist  is,  don't 
y^u?  You  know,  Prue,  Mount  Mark  is  a  very* 
religious  town,  on  account  of  the  Presbyterian 
College,  and  all,  and  it  seems  the  Simpsons  are 
the  only  atheists  here.  Hattie  says  people  look 
down  on  her  terribly  because  of  it  She  says  the 
church  folks  consider  them,  the  Simpsons,  that  is, 
the  dust  on  their  shoes,  and  the  crumbs  off  the  rich 
man's  table.  She  got  that  terribly  mixed  up,  but  I 
didn't  correct  her." 

"I  think  she  did  very  well  for  an  atheist/'  said 
Carol,  determined  not  to  be  totally  overlooked  in 
this  discussion. 

"What  has  all  this  to  do  with  Miss  Allen?" 

"Well,  one  day  Hattie  was  walking  home  from 
school  with  us,  and  she  was  telling  us  about  it, — 
the  dust  on  their  shoes,  etc., — and  she  said  she 
liked  Miss  Allen  better  than  anybody  else  in  town. 
I  asked  why.  She  said  Miss  Allen  believed  the  same 
things  the  Simpsons  believe,  only  Miss  Allen  daren't 


126  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

•say  so  publicly,  or  they  would  put  her  out  of  the 
school.  She  said  Miss  Allen  said  that  most  church 
-members  were  hypocrites  and  drunkards  and — and 
just  generally  bad,  and  the  ones  outside  the  church 
*ire  nearly  always  good  and  moral  and  kind.  She 
said  Miss  Allen  joined  the  Presbyterian  church  here 
because  most  of  the  school  board  are  Presbyterians. 
She  said  Miss  Allen  said  she  didn't  care  if  people 
were  Catholics  or  Jews  or  atheists  or — or  just 
ordinary  Protestants,  so  long  as  they  were  kind  to 
one  another,  and  went  about  the  world  doing  good 
works.  And  that's  why  Miss  Allen  wouldn't  read 
the  Bible  and  say  the  Lord's  prayer  in  school." 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  demanded  Carol. 
"Isn't  that  heresy?  She's  as  bad  as  the  priest  and 
Levite,  isn't  she?" 

"Did  you  ask  Miss  Allen  about  it?" 
"No,  indeed,  we've  just  ignored  Miss  Allen  ever 
since.  We  have  watched  her  as  closely  as  we 
could  since  then,  to  see  if  we  could  catch  her  up 
again.  Of  course  she  has  to  be  careful  what  she 
says  in  school,  but  we  found  several  strong  points 
against  her.  It's  a  perfectly  plain  case,  no  doubt 
about  it." 

"And  so  you  went  among  the  other  freshmen 


THE  TWINS 

influencing  them,  and  telling  tales,  and  (criticizing 
your " 

"No  indeed,  Prue,  we  wouldn't !  But  you  know 
it  says  in  the  Bible  to  beware  of  false  doctrines  and 
the  sowers  of  bad  seed, — or  something  like  that — " 

"And  we  bewared  as  hard  as  we  could !"  grinned 
Carol. 

"We  have  tried  to  explain  these  things  to  the 
other  freshmen  so  Miss  Allen  could  not  lead  them 
into— into  error.  Oh,  that's  Christian  Science, 
isn't  it  ?  Well,  Minnie  Carlson  is  a  Christian  Scien- 
tist and  she  talks  so  much  about  falling  into  error 
that—honestly " 

"We  can't  tell  error  from  truth  any  more,"  in- 
terjected Carol  neatly.  "And  so  I  hope  you  won't 
punish  us  if  we  accidentally  vary  from  the  truth 
once  in  a  while." 

This  was  quite  beyond  Prudence's  depth.  She 
knew  little  of  Christian  Science  save  that  it  was  a 
widely  accepted  creed  of  recent  origin.  So  she 
brought  the  twins  back  to  Miss  Allen  again.  "But, 
twins,  do  you  think  it  was  kind,  and  Christian,  and 
— and  like  parsonage  girls,  to  accept  all  this  against 
Miss  Allen  without  giving  her  a  chance  to  defend 
herself?" 


128  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"As  I  told  you,  Prue,  we  have  watched  her  very 
close  since  then.  She  has  never  come  right  out 
in  the  open, — she  wouldn't  dare, — but  she  has  given 
herself  away  several  times.  Nothing  can  get  by 
us  when  we're  on  the  watch,  you  know!" 

Prudence  knew.    "What  did  Miss  Allen  say  ?" 

The  twins  thought  seriously  for  a  while. 

"Oh,  yes,  Lark,"  suggested  Carol  finally,  "don't 
you  remember  she  said  the  Bible  was  an  allegory  ?" 

"What?" 

"Yes,  she  did.  She  was  explaining  to  the  Eng- 
lish class  what  was  meant  by  allegory,  and  she  said 
the  purpose  of  using  allegory  was  to  teach  an  im- 
portant truth  in  a  homely  impressive  way  that  could 
be  remembered.  She  mentioned  several  prominent 
allegories,  and  said  the  Bible  was  one.  And  you 
know  yourself  Prue,  that  the  Bible  is  Gospel  truth, 
and — I  mean,  it  is  so!  I  mean " 

"What  she  means,"  said  Lark  helpfully,  "is  that 
the  Bible  is  not  just  a  pretty  way  of  teaching  peo- 
ple to  be  good,  but  it's  solid  fact  clear  through." 

"That's  very  well  expressed,  Lark," — Prudence 
herself  could  not  have  expressed  it  half  so  well  I 
"But  how  do  you  twins  understand  all  these  things 
so  thoroughly?" 


THE  TWINS  129 

"Oh,  you  know  Mrs.  Sears  is  our  Sunday-school 
teacher,  and  she's  always  hot  on  the  trail  of  the 
higher  critics  and  heretics.  She  explained  all  about 
the — the  nefarious  system  to  us  one  Sunday.  She 
says  the  higher  critics  try  to  explain  away  the 
Bible  by  calling  it  allegory.  So  we  were  ready  for 
Miss  Allen  there.  And  whenever  anything  came  up 
at  school,  we  would  ask  Mrs.  Sears  about  it  on  Sun- 
day,— without  mentioning  names  of  course.  She's 
very  much  gratified  that  we  are  so  much  interested 
in  such  things.  She  thinks  we're  sure  to  be  dea- 
conesses, at  the  very  least.  But  Carol  said  she 
wouldn't  be  a  deaconess, — she  was  going  to  be  a 
Red  Cross  nurse  and  go  to  war.  That  stumped 
Mrs.  Sears  for  a  while,  and  then  she  said  we  could 
be  Red  Cross  Deaconess  nurses." 

"I  won't,"  said  Carol,  "because  the  deaconess 
uniforms  aren't  as  stylish  as  the  Red  Cross  nurses'. 
I  think  I'll  look  pretty  fine  in  a  white  uniform  with 
a  stiff  little  cap  and  a  red  cross  on  my  arm.  Red 
crosses  make  a  very  pretty  decoration,  don't  you 
think  they  do,  Lark?" 

"What  else  did  Miss  Allen  say  at  school  ?"  Pru- 
dence demanded,  leading  the  twins  back  to  the  sub- 
ject. 


130  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Well,  one  day  she  said, — you  know  she  gives 
uplifting  little  moral  talks  quite  often,  Prue.  Some- 
times she  tells  us  stories  with  inspiring  points.  She's 
really  a  moral  person,  I  believe." 

"And  I'm  honestly  sorry  she's  a  heretic,"  said 
Carol,  "for  I  do  want  to  be  friendly  enough  with 
her  to  ask  if  she  uses  anything  on  her  complexion 
to  keep  it  so  rose-leafy.  If  she  does,  I'll  have  some 
of  it,  if  it  takes  all  my  next  year's  clothes!" 

Lark  laughed.  "A  rose-leaf  complexion  will  be  a 
poor  substitute  for " 

"Oh,  for  goodness'  sake,  twins,  come  back  to 
Miss  Allen.  I  am  going  right  up  to  her  house  this 
minute,  to  ask  her  about  it,  and  explain " 

"She's  the  one  to  do  the  explaining,  seems  to 
me,"  said  Carol  belligerently.  "We've  got  to  stick 
up  for  the  Bible,  Prue, — it's  our  business." 

"And  I  don't  think  you  should  tell  her,-^ 
it  may  hurt  her  feelings,"  urged  Lark. 

"Have  heretics  feelings?"  queried  Carol.  "I 
suppose  it's  a  feeling  of " 

"Carol !  Will  you  quit  talking  for  a  minute !  This 
is  a  serious  matter.  If  she  believes  all  that  non- 
sense, she's  no  proper  teacher  and — and  she'll  have 


THE  TWINS  131 

to  be  put  out  of  the  high  school.  And  if  she  doesn't 
believe  it,  she's  a  martyr!  I'm  going  to  find  out 
about  it  at  once.  Do  you  want  to  come  with  me  ?" 

"I  should  say  not,"  said  the  twins  promptly. 

"I  think  you're  very  foolish  to  go  at  all,"  added 
Lark. 

"I  wouldn't  go  for  a  dollar,"  declared  Carol.  "It'd 
be  very  interesting  to  see  how  a  heretic  feels,  but  I 
don't  care  to  know  how  ordinary  Christians  feel 
when  they  fall  into  their  hands.  I'm  not  aching 
to  see  Miss  Allen  to-night." 

So  Prudence  set  forth,  conscientiously,  in  the 
darkness.  A  brave  and  heroic  thing  for  Prudence 
to  do,  for  she  was  a  cowardly  creature  at  heart. 

Miss  Allen  heard  her  voice  in  the  lower  hall,  and 
£ame  running  down-stairs  to  meet  her.  "Come  up," 
she  cried  eagerly,  "come  on  up." 

And  before  Prudence  was  fairly  inside  the  door, 
she  demanded,  "What  is  it?  Did  you  find  out? 
Is  it  my  fault?" 

Then  Prudence  blushed  and  stammered,  "Why — 
it  sounds — silly  but — they  think  you  are  a — 
heretic." 

Miss  Allen  gasped.     Then  she  laughed.     Then 


132     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

she  walked  to  her  dressing-table  and  picked  up  a 
long  hatpin.  "Will  you  kindly  jab-this  into  me?" 
she  said.  "I'm  having  a  nightmare." 

Prudence  explained  in  detail.  At  first  Miss 
Allen  laughed,  it  must  be  confessed.  Then  she 
grew  very  sober.  "It  is  really  my  fault,"  she  said, 
"for  I  should  have  remembered  that  young  people 
read  a  ton  of  meaning  into  a  pound  of  words.  Of 
course,  I  am  not  guilty,  Miss  Starr.  Professor 
Duke  and  Miss  Adams  can  swear  to  that.  They 
call  me  Goody-goody.  They  say  I  am  an  old- 
fashioned  apostle,  and  they  accuse  me  of  wanting 
to  burn  them  both  at  the  stake !  Now,  sit  down  and 
let  me  explain." 

Prudence  sat  down.  She  was  glad,  so  glad,  that 
this  sweet-faced,  bright-eyed  woman  was  an  "or- 
dinary Christian,"  and  not  a  "priest  and  a  Levite !" 

"About  the  allegory  business,  it  is  very  simple. 
What  I  said  was  this, — 'The  Bible  is  full  of  al- 
legory.' I  did  not  say,  'The  Bible  is  allegory.'  I 
said  the  Bible  is  full  of  allegory,  and  so  it  is.  The 
parables,  for  instance, — what  are  they?  Do  you 
see  the  difference? — But  it  is  really  more  serious 
about  poor  little  Hattie  Simpson.  As  the  twins 
told  you,  her  parents  are  atheists.  Her  father  is 


THE  TWINS  133 

a  loud-voiced,  bragging,  boastful,  coarse-hearted 
fellow.  Hattie  herself  does  not  know  what  her 
parents  believe,  and  what  they  do  not.  She  simply 
i  follows  blindly  after  them.  She  thinks  she  is  an 
eyesore  in  Mount  Mark  because  of  it.  She  resents 
it  bitterly,  but  she  feels  the  only  decent  thing  for 
her  to  do  is  to  stand  by  her  folks.  Let  me  tell  you 
about  our  conversation.  I  tried  to  make  friends 
with  her,  for  I  truly  pity  her.  She  has  no  friends, 
she  slinks  about  as  though  constantly  ashamed  of 
herself.  She  trusts  no  one,  herself  least  of  all.  I 
tried  to  draw  her  out,  and  with  partial  success.  She 
told  me  how  she  feels  about  it  all.  I  said,  'Hattie, 
won't  you  let  some  one — some  minister,  who  knows 
how — tell  you  about  Christianity,  and  explain  to 
you  what  Christians  really  believe?"  'No,'  she 
said  passionately,  Til  stand  by  my  folks/  Then  I 
saw  she  was  not  ready  yet.  I  said,  'Well,  perhaps 
it  is  just  as  well  for  the  present,  for  you  are  too 
young  now  to  take  any  definite  stand  for  yourself. 
It  is  true/  I  told  her,  'that  many  church  members 
are  not  Christians,  and  are  bad  immoral  people, — 
as  your  father  says.  They  are  not  Christians.  And 
it  is  true  that  many  outside  of  the  church  are  good 
moral  people, — but  they  are  not  Christians,  either.' 


134  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

And  then  I  said,  'Don't  worry  your  head  just  now 
about  whether  people  are  Catholics  or  Jews  or 
Protestants,  or  what  they  are.  Just  try  to  love  every- 
body, and  try  to  grow  up  to  be  such  a  sweet,  kind, 
loving  woman  that  you  will  be  a  blessing  to  the 
world.  And  what  is  more/  I  said,  'do  not  puzzle 
your  head  now  about  why  some  believe  the  Bible, 
and  some  do  not.  Just  wait.  When  you  are  older, 
you  shall  go  into  things  for  yourself,  and  make 
your  own  decision.' ' 

Prudence  nodded.  "I  think  you  were  very  sweet 
about  it,"  she  said. 

"I  wanted  to  win  her  confidence  in  the  hope  that 
some  time,  a  little  later,  I  myself  may  show  her 
what  Christ  is  to  us,  and  why  we  love  the  Bible. 
But  I  did  fight  shy  of  the  real  point,  for  fear  I 
might  anger  her  and  put  a  barrier  between  us.  I 
just  tried  to  win  her  confidence  and  her  love,  to 
pave  the  way  for  what  I  may  be  able  to  do  later 
on.  Do  you  see?  I  have  had  several  talks  with 
her,  but  she  is  not  ready.  She  is  just  a  child,  stub- 
bornly  determined  to  stand  with  her  folks,  right  or 
wrong.  I  am  trying  now  to  cultivate  the  ground, 
I  say  nothing  to  make  her  dislike  or  distrust  me. 


THE  TWINS  135 

I  did  not  think  of  her  telling  it  to  others, — and  tell- 
ing it  wrong!  Surely  no  one  but  the  twins  could 
have  read  so  much  into  it !" 

"Well,"  and  Prudence  smiled,  "you  know  we  are 
parsonage  people!  We  have  to  stick  up  for  the 
Bible,  as  Carol  says." 

"Oh,  and  about  the  Bible  reading,"  said  Miss 
Allen  suddenly,  "I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that. 
As  you  know,  there  are  Jews  and  Catholics  and 
Christian  Scientists  and  every  branch  of  Protestant 
represented  in  our  little  school.  The  Jews  and 
Christian  Scientists  are  in  a  minority.  The  Jews 
have  always  objected  to  Bible  reading,  but  they 
were  too  few  to  be  influential.  With  a  Catholic 
teacher,  the  Catholics  were  quite  willing  to  have  it. 
With  a  Protestant  teacher,  the  Protestants  were 
strong  for  it  But  there  was  always  friction — - 
one  side  objecting — so  the  school  board  ruled  it 
out  entirely.  I  did  not  explain  this  to  the  scholars. 
I  did  not  want  our  young  people  to  know  of  the 
petty  bickering  and  scrapping  going  on  among  the 
elders  in  the  town.  So  I  simply  said  that  hereafter 
we  would  dispense  with  the  Bible  reading.  But  it 
was  the  direct  order  of  the  board.  I  argued  against 


136  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

it,  so  did  Professor  Duke,  so  did  Miss  Adams.  But 
as  it  happens,  we  are  all  three  Presbyterians !  It  did 
no  good." 

Then  as  Prudence  rose  to  go  home,  she  asked 
eagerly,  "Do  you  think  the  twins  will  like  me  now  ?" 

"I  don't  see  how  in  the  world  they  can  help  it," 
declared  Prudence,  smiling;  "indeed,  they  admitted 
they  were  only  too  anxious  to  love  you,  but  couldn't 
honestly  do  so  because  they  had  to  stick  up  for  the 
Bible !  I  am  so  glad  and  relieved !  This  is  the  first 
time  I  have  gone  heresy-hunting,  and  I  was  quite 
bowed  down  with  the  weight  of  it.  And  if  ever  t 
can  help  with  poor  little  Hattie,  will  you  let  me 
know?  I  must  have  the  twins  invite  her  to  spend 
some  Saturday  with  us.  That's  the  way  I  make 
the  girls  like  people, — by  being  with  them  a  great, 
great  deal." 

Just  before  she  said  good  night,  Prudence  mur- 
mured hopefully,  "I  am  sorry  it  happened,  but  it 
will  be  a  good  lesson  for  the  twins.  I  am  sure  that 
after  this,  they  will  be  less  ready  to  listen  to  gossip, 
and  more  ready  to  give  one  the  benefit  of  a  doubt. 
It's  a  great  responsibility,  this  raising  a  family. 
Miss  Allen — and  especially  twins!" 


CHAPTER  VI 

AN  ADMIRER 

IT  MUST  be  remembered  that  Prudence  did  not 
live  in  a  sheltered  and  exclusive  city  home, 
where  girls  are  rigidly  withheld  from  all  un- 
chaperoned  intercourse  with  young  men  and  old. 
We  know  how  things  are  managed  in  the  "best 
homes"  of  the  big  cities, — girls  are  sheltered  from 
innocent  open  things,  and,  too  often,  indulge  in 
really  serious  amusements  on  the  quiet.  But  this 
was  the  Middle  West,  where  girls  are  to  be  trusted. 
Not  all  girls,  of  course,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
girls  who  need  watching,  seldom  get  enough  of  it  to 
keep  them  out  of  mischief.  Out  in  Iowa,  girls  and 
boys  are  allowed  to  like  each  other,  and  revel  in 
each  other's  company.  And  it  is  good  for  both. 

Prudence  was  not  a  sentimental  girl.  Perhaps 
this  was  partly  due  to  the  fact  that  at  the  age  when 
most  girls  are  head- full  of  boy,  Prudence  was  hands- 
full  of  younger  sisters!  And  when  hands  are  full 
to  overflowing,  there  is  small  likelihood  of  heads 

137 


138  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

being  full  of  nonsense.  Prudence  liked  boys  as  she 
liked  girls,— that  was  the  end  of  it.  Romance  was 
to  her  a  closed  book,  and  she  felt  no  inclination  to 
peep  between  the  covers.  Soul-stirring  had  not 
come  to  her  yet. 

But  Prudence  was  attractive.  She  had  that  in- 
describable charm  that  carries  a  deep  appeal  to  the 
eyes,  and  the  lips,  and  the  hearts  of  men.  Hap- 
pily Prudence  herself  did  not  realize  this.  The 
first  young  man  of  Mount  Mark  to  yield  to  the 
charms  of  Prudence  was  a  serious-minded  lawyer, 
nearly  ten  years  her  senior.  This  was  just  the 
type  of  man  to  become  enraptured  with  Prudence. 
He  gazed  across  at  her  solemnly  during  the  church 
service.  He  waited  patiently  after  the  benediction 
until  she  finished  her  Methodist  practise  of  hand- 
shaking, and  then  walked  joyously  home  with 
her.  He  said  little,  but  he  gazed  in  frank  enchant- 
ment at  the  small  womanly  girl  beside  him. 

"He's  not  half  bad,  Fairy,"  Prudence  would  con- 
fide to  her  sister  when  they  were  snug  in  their  bed. 
"He's  not  half  bad  at  all.  But  at  heart,  he  doesn't 
approve  of  me.  He  doesn't  know  that  himself, 
and  I  certainly  can't  believe  it  is  my  duty  to  tell 
him.  But  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  true.  For  in- 


AN  ADMIRER  139 

stance,  he  thinks  every  one,  especially  women,  should 
have  a  mission  in  life,  a  serious,  earnest  mission. 
I  told  him  I  didn't  believe  anything  of  the  kind, — 
I  think  we  are  just  supposed  to  live  along  from 
day  to  day  and  do  what  we  can,  and  be  happy,  and 
not  say  mean  things  about  one  another.  But  he 
said  he  considered  that  I  was  fulfilling  the  noblest 
mission  a  woman  could  have.  Now  what  do  you 
reckon  he  meant  by  that,  Fairy  ?  I've  been  puzzling 
my  brain  over  it  for  days  and  days.  Anybody 
can  tell  I  am  not  the  sort  of  girl  to  have  a  mission ! 
Maybe  he  just  said  it  to  encourage  me, — he's  a  very 
encouraging  sort  of  man.  He's  very  nice, — oh, 
very  nice,  indeed!  But  isn't  it  a  nuisance  to  have 
him  tagging  along  home  with  me,  when  I  might  be 
having  such  a  good  time  with  you  and  the  twins, 
or  father?  Can  a  girl  tell  a  man  she  prefers  to  go 
home  with  her  family,  without  hurting  his  feelings  ? 
Is  there  any  way  to  turn  a  person  down  without 
letting  him  know  it?  He's  so  nice  I  wouldn't  hurt 
his  feelings  for  anything,  but — it's  such  a  bother! 
I'm  too  young  for  beaus,  and  since  I'm  never  go- 
ing to  get  married  it's  just  a  waste  of  time." 

And  Fairy  screamed  with  laughter,  but  told  Pru- 
dence she  must  solve  her  own  love  problems!   A*id 


140     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence,  unwilling  to  give  offense,  and  preferring 
self-sacrifice,  endured  his  company  until  a  gay 
young  college  lad  slipped  in  ahead  of  him.  "First 
come,  first  served,"  was  the  motto  of  heartless  Pru- 
dence, and  so  she  tripped  comfortably  away  with 
"Jimmy,"  laughing  at  his  silly  college  stories,  and 
never  thinking  to  give  more  than  a  parting  smile 
at  the  solemn  face  she  left  behind. 

After  Jimmy  came  a  grocery  clerk  named  Byron 
Poe  Smith,  and  after  him  somebody  else,  and  some- 
body else,  and  somebody  else.  And  Prudence  con- 
tinued to  laugh,  and  thought  it  "awfully  amusing, 
Fairy,  but  I  keep  wondering  what  you  and  the 
twins  are  laughing  about!" 

But  it  was  Fairy  herself  who  brought  a  real 
disturbing  element  into  the  life  of  Prudence.  One 
of  the  lightest-minded  of  the  many  light-minded 
college  men,  had  been  deeply  smitten  by  the  charms 
of  dignified  Fairy.  He  walked  with  her,  and  talked 
with  her, — this  young  man  was  a  great  deal  of  a 
talker,  as  so  pathetically  many  college  men  are !  He 
planned  many  little  expeditions  and  entertainments 
for  her  amusement,  and  his  own  happiness.  His 
name  was  Eugene  Babler. 

"Oh,  he  talks  a  lot,"  said  Fairy  coolly,  "but  he 


AN  ADMIRER  141 

certainly  shows  one  a  good  time,  and  that's  the 
point,  you  know !" 

She  came  in  from  college  one  afternoon  and  rat- 
tled off  this  little  tale  to  Prudence. 

"A  few  of  us  were  on  the  campus  to-day,  and 
we  decided  to  go  down  the  creek  to-morrow  after- 
noon and  take  our  suppers.  There'll  be  Ellen  Stark, 
and  Georgia  Prentiss,  and  myself.  And  the  boys 
will  be  Tom  Angell,  and  Frank  Morris,  and  Eugene 
Babler.  And  Professor  Rayburn  was  there  when 
we  were  talking  about  it,  and  so  we  asked  him  to 
go  along,  but  we  told  him  he  must  take  a  girl. 
And  he  said,  *I  wonder  if  your  sister  wouldn't 
go  ?  I  have  only  met  her  once,  but  perhaps  on  your 

recommendation,  Miss  Fairy '  and  he  paused 

with  his  breath  in  the  air,  inquiringly.  So  I  said, 
'Do  you  mean  Prudence,  or  one  of  the  twins  ?'  He 
smiled  very  kindly  and  said,  *I  mean  Prudence.'  I 
said  I  was  sure  you  would  go,  and  so  you'll  have  to 
do  it.  It's  a  great  honor,  Prue,  for  all  the  upper- 
class  girls,  and  even  the  unmarried  women  on  the 
Fac.  are  crazy  about  him.  He's  so  aloof,  you  know, 
and  very  intelligent.  I  swelled  with  pride  at  the 
public  tribute  to  the  parsonage !" 

"Professor     Rayburn!     Of    the    Fac.!"    gasped 


142  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence.  "Oh,  I'm  sure  he  didn't  mean  me,  Fairy. 
You  must  have  misunderstood  him.  Why,  I 
wouldn't  know  what  to  say  to  a  professor,  you 
know!  What  is  his  line?" 

"Bugs!"  cried  Fairy.  "He's  the  biology  man. 
And  this  is  his  first  year  here,  and  he's  very  bril- 
liant,— they  say!  I'm  no  authority  on  bugs  my- 
self. But  anyhow  every  one  just  raves  about  him, 
and  he  showed  very  plainly  that  he  was  anxious 
to  get  acquainted  with  you,  so  you'll  have  to  go." 

"But  bugs!"  wailed  Prudence.  "What  do  I 
know  about  bugs !  Will  he  expect  me  to  know  how 
to  divide  them, — separate  them,  you  know — " 

"I  suppose  you  mean  dissect  them,  you  poor 
child,"  screamed  Fairy.  "Divide  bugs!  If  pro- 
fessor could  hear  you  now,  Prue,  he  would  be  sadly 
disillusioned.  You  must  just  trot  up-stairs  and 
get  one  of  the  twins'  biology  books  and  cram  up  a 
little.  He  won't  expect  you  to  be  an  advanced 
buggist.  He  can  give  you  points  himself.  Men 
do  love  to  have  girls  appeal  to  their  superior  knowl- 
edge, and  be  admiring  and  deferent.  Maybe  he  will 
'divide  one*  for  you  if  you  ask  him  'please/  " 

"I  won't  do  it,"  declared  Prudence.  "I  don't 
like  bugs  anyhow,  and — \vhy,  the  very  pictures  of 


AN  ADMIRER  143 

them  in  the  twins'  books  make  me  nervous.  I  won't 
do  it.  You  can  just  tell  him  I  don't  feel  qualified 
to  go." 

"You've  got  to  go/'  said  Fairy  sternly,  "for  I 
said  you  would,  and  he's  counting  on  it.  He's 
going  to  phone  you  this  afternoon  and  ask  you  him- 
self. You've  got  to  go." 

At  that  instant,  the  telephone  rang. 

"There's  professor!"  cried  Fairy.  "You  tell  him 
you  are  just  delighted  to  go,  and  that  you  are  90 
interested  in  bugs !" 

With  a  flushed  face,  Prudence  took  down  the  re- 
ceiver. "Hello,"  she  said,  "this  is  the  parsonage." 

And  then,  a  second  later,  she  said,  "Yes,  this  is 
Prudence." 

After  that  she  stood  silent  for  some  little  time, 
with  Fairy  crouched  beside  her,  trying  to  hear. 

Then  spoke  Prudence.  "Yes,  Fairy  has  been 
telling  me.  And  it's  very  kind  of  you,  indeed,  and 
I  know  I  would  enjoy  it.  But  as  I  was  telling 
Fairy,  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  bugs,  and  I  don't 
like  them  anyhow,  so  I'm  afraid  you  would  find 
me  rather  stupid." 

Fairy  was  striving  to  get  a  hand  over  her  sis- 
ter's lips  to  stem  the  words,  but  Prudence  eluded 


144     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

her.  They  were  both  somewhat  astounded  at  tho 
great  peal  of  laughter  which  came  over  the  tele- 
phone. 

"Good!  That's  just  what  I  was  hoping  for!  You 
couldn't  have  said  anything  that  would  give  me 
greater  pleasure.  Then  shall  I  come  around  with 
Babler,  for  you  and  your  sister,  about  one  o'clock? 
— Oh,  that  is  very  kind  of  you,  Miss  Starr.  Good- 
by!  Don't  cultivate  an  interest  in  bugs  between 
now  and  to-morrow,  for  my  sake!" 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other  doubtfully  when 
the  receiver  was  once  more  on  its  hook. 

"I'm  afraid  he's  laughing  at  me,"  said  Prudence 
questioningly. 

"I  should  hope  so,"  cried  Fairy.  "What  in  the 
world  did  you  say  that  for?  Couldn't  you  have 
pretended  to  be  interested?  Professor  likes  women 
to  be  dignified  and  intellectual  and  deep,  and " 

"Then  why  on  earth  did  he  ask  me  to  go?"  de- 
manded Prudence.  "Any  one  could  tell  to  look  at 
me  that  I'm  not  dignified  and  intellectual  and  deep, 
and " 

"And  I  know  he  admired  you,  for  he  was  so 
eager  when  he  asked  about  you.  Think  how  grand 


AN  ADMIRER  145 

it  would  be  to  speak  of  'my  sister,  Mrs.  Professor 
Rayburn,'  and " 

"Don't  be  silly,  Fairy.  If  I  was  going  to  marry 
anybody,  which  I  am  not,  I  hope  you  do  not  think 
for  one  minute  that  I'd  marry  a  buggist !  Gracious ! 
Goodness !  I've  a  notion  not  to  go  a  step !  I'll  call 
him  up  and " 

But  Fairy  only  laughed. 

And  after  all,  Prudence  looked  forward  to  the 
little  outing  in  the  glorious  October  woods  with 
eager  anticipation.  It  was  seldom  indeed  that 
she  indulged  in  merry-making  away  from  the 
parsonage.  Yet  she  was  fond  of  gaiety.  Long 
before  one  o'clock  on  that  eventful  day,  she  was 
ready.  And  her  face  was  so  bright,  and  her  eyes 
so  starry,  that  placid  self-satisfied  Fairy  felt  a 
twinge  of  something  like  envy. 

"You  look  like  a  creature  from-  another  world, 
Prue,"  she  said.  "If  Professor  Rayburn  has  any 
sense  in  his  bones,  he  will  fall  dead  in  love  with 
you, — bugs  or  no  bugs!" 

"People  do  not  have  sense  in  their  bones,  Fairy, 
and — and — shall  I  say  professor,  or  just  plain  Mis- 
ter?" 


146  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Professor,  I  suppose, — every  one  calls  him  pro- 
fessor." 

"Then  I  shall  say  Mister,"  said  Prudence.  "It 
will  be  so  hard  to  enjoy  myself  if  I  keep  remem- 
bering that  he  teaches  bugs !  I  might  as  well  be  at 
school.  I  shall  say  Mister." 

And  she  did  say  "Mister,"  and  she  said  it  so 
sweetly,  and  looked  up  into  Professor  Rayburn's 
face  so  brightly,  and  with  happiness  so  evident  and 
so  girlish,  that  the  staid  professor  felt  a  quick  un- 
accountable throbbing  down  somewhere  beneath  his 
coat  He  did  look  eager!  There  was  no  doubt  of 
it.  And  he  looked  at  Prudence,  continuously. 

"Just  like  ordinary  men,  isn't  he?"  whispered 
Fairy  to  Eugene  Babler, — called  "Babbie,"  for  short 
and  for  humiliation, — for  he  enjoyed  the  reputation 
of  being  a  "talker"  even  among  college  men! 

The  three  young  couples  struck  off  briskly  down 
the  road,  creek-ward,  and  Prudence  followed  se- 
dately with  her  professor. 

"Fairy  says  it  was  perfectly  disgusting  of  me 
to  tell  you  I  didn't  know  anything  about  bugs,"  she 
said  comfortably.  "But  I  thought  maybe  you  were 
one  of  those  professors  who  like  one  thing  so  mucli 
they  can't  be  interested  in  anything  else.  And  I 


AN  ADMIRER  147 

wanted  to  warn  you.  But  I  guess  you  aren't  that 
kind,  after  all?" 

"Oh,  no,  indeed,"  he  assured  her  fervently,  look- 
ing deep  into  her  blue  eyes.  "I  like  bugs,  it  is  true. 
But  really  I  like  other  things,  one  thing  at  least, 
much  better." 

"Is  it  a  riddle?"  she  inquired.  "Am  I  supposed 
to  guess?" 

"It  isn't  a  riddle,  but  you  may  guess.  Think 
hard,  now !  It's  a  serious  matter.  Please  don't  say 
'food.' " 

"If  I  get  below  seventy  will  I  be  put  down  a 
grade?"  she  asked.  Then  with  intense  solemnity, 
"I  guess  girls." 

They  laughed  together,  youthfully.  "You  are 
right,"  he  said. 

And  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  Prudence  answered, 
"That's  the  first  time  I  ever  got  a  hundred  in  any- 
thing in  my  life.  I  was  very  much  accustomed  to 
eighties  when  I  was  in  school.  I  am  very  common 
and  unbrilliant,"  she  assured  him.  "Fairy  says  you 
are  perfectly  horribly  clever " 

She  glanced  up  when  she  heard  his  exclamation, 
and  laughed  at  his  rueful  face.  "Oh,  that  isn't 
Fairy's  expression.  She  thinks  brilliant  and  clever 


148  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

people  are  just  adorable.  It  is  only  I  who  think 
them  horrible."  Even  Prudence  could  see  that  this 
did  not  help  matters.  "I — I  do  not  mean  that,"  she 
stammered.  "I  am  sure  you  are  very  nice  indeed, 
and  we  are  going  to  be  good  friends,  aren't  we? 
But  I  am  such  a  dunce  myself  that  I  am  afraid  of 
real  clever  people.  They  are  so  superior.  And  so 
uninteresting,  and— oh,  I  do  not  mean  that  either." 
Then  Prudence  laughed  at  her  predicament.  "I 
may  as  well  give  it  up.  What  I  really  mean  is  that 
you  are  so  nice  and  friendly  and  interesting,  that 
I  can  hardly  believe  you  are  so  clever.  You  are 
the  nicest  smart  person  I  ever  saw, — except  my 
own  family,  I  mean."  She  smiled  up  at  him  de- 
liciously.  "Does  that  make  it  square?" 

"More  than  square,"  he  said.  "You  are  too  com- 
plimentary. But  the  only  thing  that  really  counts 
to-day  is  whether  we  are  going  to  be  real  good 
friends,  as  you  suggested.  We  are,  aren't  we? 
The  very  best  and  closest  of  friends?" 

"Yes,"  agreed  Prudence,  dimpling.  "I  like  men 
to  be  my  friends, — nice  men,  I  mean.  But  it  isn't 
always  safe.  So  many  start  out  to  be  good  friends, 
and  then  want  to  be  silly.  So  a  girl  has  to  be  very 
careful.  But  it's  perfectly  safe  with  you,  and  so 


AN  ADMIRER  149 

-we  can  be  the  very  best  of  friends.  I  won't  need 
to  be  watchful  for  bad  symptoms." 

"Do  you  think  me  so  unmanly  that  I  couldn't  fall 
in  love?"  he  asked,  and  his  voice  was  curious,  as 
though  she  had  hurt  him. 

"Oh,  of  course,  you'll  fall  in  love,"  laughed 
Prudence.  "All  nice  men  do. — But  not  with  me, — 
that  was  what  I  meant.  I  couldn't  imagine  a  buggy 
professor — oh,  I  beg  your  pardon!  But  the  twins 
are  so  silly  and  disrespectful,  and  they  thought  it 
was  such  a  joke  that  I  should  even  look  at  a  pro- 
fessor of  biology  that  they  began  calling  you  the 
buggy  professor.  But  they  do  not  mean  any  harm 
by  it,  not  the  least  in  the  world.  They're  such  nice 
sweet  girls,  but — young,  you  know.  Are  your  feel- 
ings hurt?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"Not  a  bit!  I  think  the  twins  and  I  will  be  tre- 
mendously good  friends.  I'm  quite  willing  to  be 
known  as  the  buggy  professor.  But  you  were  try- 
ing to  explain  why  I  couldn't  fall  in  love  with  you. 
I  suppose  you  mean  that  you  do  not  want  me  to." 

"Oh,  not  that  at  all,"  she  hastened  to  assure 
him.  Then  she  stopped.  "Yes,"  she  said  honestly, 
"that  is  true,  too.  But  that  isn't  what  I  was  try- 
ing to  say.  I  was  just  saying  that  no  one  realizes 


150     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

any  more  than  I  how  perfectly  impossible  it  would 
be  for  a  clever,  grown-up,  brilliant  professor  to  fall 
in  love  with  such  an  idiot  as  I  am.  That's  all.  I 
meant  it  for  a  compliment,"  she  added,  seeing  he 
was  not  well  pleased. 

He  smiled,  but  it  was  a  sober  smile.  "You  said 
it  was  true  that  you  did  not  wish  me  to  be — fond 
of  you.  Why?  Don't  you  like  me  then,  after 
all?" 

Now,  he  realized  that  this  was  a  perfectly  in- 
sane conversation,  but  for  the  life  of  him,  he 
couldn't  help  it.  Prudence  was  so  alluring,  and  the 
sky  was  so  warmly  blue,  the  sunshine  so  mild  and 
hazy,  and  the  roadside  so  gloriously  gay  with  col- 
ors! Who  could  have  sense  on  such  a  day,  with 
such  a  girl  as  this? 

"Oh,  I  do  like  you  very  much  indeed,"  declared 
Prudence.  "It's  a  big  relief,  too,  for  I  didn't  ex- 
pect to — oh,  I  beg  your  pardon  again,  but — well, 
I  was  scared  when  Fairy  told  me  how  remarkable ' 
you  are.  I  didn't  want  to  disgrace  the  parsonage, 
and  I  knew  I  would.  But — why,  the  reason  I  do 
not  want  you  to  fall  in  love  with  me, — that's  very 
different  from  being  fond  of  me,  I  do  want  you 
to  be  that,— but  when  people  fall  in  love,  they  get 


AN  ADMIRER  151 

married.  I'm  not  going  to  get  married,  so  it 
would  be  silly  to  fall  in  love,  wouldn't  it?" 

He  laughed  heartily  at  the  matter-of-factness 
with  which  this  nineteen-year-old  girl  disposed  of 
love  and  marriage.  "Why  aren't  you  going  to  be 
married?"  he  inquired,  foolishly  happy,  and  show- 
ing more  foolishness  than  happiness,  just  as  we  all 
do  on  such  occasions. 

"Well,  it  will  be  ten  or  eleven  years  before 
Connie  is  fairly  raised." 

"Yes,  but  you  won't  be  a  Methuselah  in  eleven 
years,"  he  smiled. 

"No,  but  you  forget  father." 

"Forget  father!    Are  you  raising  him,  too?*' 

"No,  I'm  not  raising  him,  but  I'm  managing 
him."  But  when  he  laughed,  she  hastened  to  add, 
"That  is,  I  take  care  of  him,  and  keep  house  for 
him,  and  remind  him  of  things  he  forgets."  Then 
with  girlish  honesty,  she  added,  "Though  I  must 
confess  that  he  has  to  remind  me  of  things  I  for- 
get, oftener  than  I  do  him.  I  inherited  my  forget" 
fulness  from  father.  I  asked  him  once  if  he  in- 
herited his  from  grandfather,  and  he  said  he  for- 
got whether  grandfather  was  forgetful  or  not! 
Father  is  very  clever.  So's  Fairy.  And  the  twins 


152     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

are  the  smartest  little  things  you  ever  saw, — and 
Connie,  too.  Connie  is  the  oddest,  keenest  child. 
She's  wonderful.  They  all  are, — but  me.  It's  kind 
of  humiliating  to  be  the  only  stupid  one  in  a  family 
of  smart  folks.  I  suppose  you've  no  idea  how  it 
feels,  and  I  can't  explain  it.  But  sometimes  I 
think  maybe  I  ought  to  go  off  and  die,  so  the  whole 
family  can  shine  and  sparkle  together.  As  it  is, 
there's  just  a  dull  glow  from  my  corner,  quite 
pale  and  ugly  compared  with  the  brilliant  gleams 
the  others  are  sending  out." 

Said  Professor  Rayburn,  "Ah,  Prudence,  the 
faint,  sweet  mellow  glows  are  always  beautiful. 
Not  sparkling,  perhaps,  not  brilliant !  But  comfort- 
ing, and  cheering,  and — always  to  be  trusted.  It's 
just  these  little  corner-glows,  like  yours,  that  make 
life  worth  living." 

This  was  rather  deep  for  Prudence,  but  she  felt 
instinctively  that  he  was  complimenting  her.  She 
thanked  him  sweetly,  and  said,  "And  after  all,  I  do 
not  really  mind  being  the  stupid  one.  I  think  it's 
rather  fun,  for  then  I  can  just  live  along  comfort- 
ably, and  people  do  not  expect  much  of  me.  It 
would  wear  me  all  out  to  be  as  clever  as  Fairy,  or 


AN  ADMIRER  153 

as  witty  as  Carol,  or  as  studious  as  Lark.  But  I  am 
most  tremendously  proud  of  them,  I  assure  you." 

If  Professor  Rayburn  had  continued  along  this 
interesting  and  fruitful  line  of  conversation,  all 
would  have  been  well. 

"But  it  came  just  like  a  clap  of  thunder  in  the 
sunshine,"  said  Prudence  to  Fairy  dramatically,  as 
they  sat  in  their  room  talking  things  over  that 
night  "We  were  having  a  perfectly  grand  time, 
and  I  was  just  thinking  he  was  as  nice  and  interest- 
ing as  if  he  didn't  know  one  thing  to  his  name, 
when — Crash !  That's  how  it  happened.'* 

Fairy  wiped  her  eyes,  and  lay  back  weakly  on  the 
bed.  "Go  on,"  she  urged.  "What  happened?" 

"He  stopped  right  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence 
about  me,  something  real  nice,  too,  that  I  was 
awfully  interested  in,  and  said,  'Look,  Miss  Starr!' 
Then  he  got  down  on  his  knees  and  began  cautious- 
ly scraping  away  the  sticks  and  leaves.  Then  he 
fished  out  the  most  horrible,  woolly,  many-legged 
little  animal  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  He  said  it  was 
a  giminythoraticus  billyancibus,  and  he  was  as 
tickled  over  it  as  though  he  had  just  picked  up  a 
million-dollar  diamond.  And  what  do  you  suppose 


154     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

the  weird  creature  did  with  it?  He  wrapped  it  in 
a  couple  of  leaves,  and  put  his  handkerchief  around 
it  and  put  it  in  his  pocket! — Do  you  remember 
when  we  were  eating  by  the  creek,  and  I  got  jam 
on  my  fingers  ?  He  offered  me  his  handkerchief  to 
wipe  it  off?  Do  you  remember  how  I  shoved  him 
away,  and  shuddered  ?  I  saw  you  look  reprovingly 
at  me !  That's  why !  Do  you  suppose  I  could  wipe 
my  ringers  with  a  handkerchief  that  had  been  in 
one  of  his  pockets?" 

"It  wasn't  the  one  that  had  the  giminy  billibus, 
was  it?" 

"No,  but  goodness  only  knows  what  had  been  in 
this  one, — an  alligator,  maybe,  or  a  snake.  He's 
very  fond  of  snakes.  He  says  some  of  them  are 
so  useful.  I  try  to  be  charitable,  Fairy,  and  I  be- 
lieve I  would  give  even  Satan  credit  for  any  good 
there  was  in  him, — but  it  is  too  much  to  ask  me 
to  be  fond  of  a  man  who  is  fond  of  snakes.  But 
that  is  not  the  worst  He  put  the  giminy  thing  in 
his  pocket, — his  left  pocket!  Then  he  came  on  walk- 
ing with  me,  on  my  right  side.  On  my  right  side, 
Fairy,  do  you  understand  what  that  means?  It 
means  that  the  giminy  billibus,  as  you  call,  it — oh, 
I  wouldn't  swear  to  the  name,  Fairy,  I  do  not  claim 


AN  ADMIRER  155 

to  be  smart,  but  I  know  how  it  looked !  Well,  any- 
how, name  and  all,  it  was  on  the  side  next  to  me. 
I  stopped  to  look  at  a  little  stick,  and  switched 
around  on  the  other  side.  Then  he  stooped  to  look 
at  a  bunch  of  dirt,  and  got  on  the  wrong  side  again. 
Then  I  stopped,  and  then  he  did,  and  so  we  kept  zig- 
zagging down  the  road.  A  body  would  have 
thought  we  were  drunk,  I  suppose.  Four  times 
that  man  stopped  to  pick  up  some  wriggling  little 
animal,  and  four  times  he  deposited  his  treasure  in 
one  of  his  various  pockets.  Don't  ask  why  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  be  friends  with  such  a  being, — 
spare  me  that  humiliation!" 

But  the  fair  daughter  of  the  parsonage  proved 
irresistibly  attractive  to  the  unfortunate  professor, 
and  he  was  not  to  be  lightly.shunted  aside.  He  for- 
sook the  Presbyterian  church,  of  which  he  was  a 
member,  and  attended  the  Methodist  meetings  with 
commendable  assiduity.  After  each  service,  he  ac- 
companied Prudence  home,  and  never  failed  to1 
accept  her  invitations,  feebly  given,  to  "come  in  a 
minute."  He  called  as  often  during  the  week  as 
Propriety,  in  the  voice  of  Prudence,  deemed  fitting. 
It  was  wholly  unnatural  for  Prudence  to  cater  to 
Propriety,  but  Professor  Rayburn  did  not  know 


this.  Weeks  passed,  a  month  slipped  away,  and 
another.  Professor  Rayburn  was  considered  a  fix- 
ture in  the  parsonage  household  by  all  except  Pru- 
dence herself,  who  chafed  under  her  bondage. 

"I  can't  just  blurt  out  that  I  think  he's  a  nui- 
sance," she  mourned  to  Fairy.  "Oh,  if  he'd  just  do 
something  disgusting  so  I  could  fire  him  off, — 
Pop!  Just  like  that.  Wouldn't  it  be  glorious?" 

But  the  professor  did  not  indulge  in  disgusting 
things,  and  Prudence  continued  to  worry  and  fret. 
Then  came  a  blessed  evening  when  the  minister  and 
Fairy  were  away  from  home,  and  the  twins  and 
Connie  were  safely  in  their  beds.  Professor  Ray- 
burn  sat  with  Prudence  in  the  cozy  living-room,  and 
Prudence  was  charming,  though  quiet,  and  the  pro- 
fessor was  only  human.  Prudence  had  made  tea, 
and  as  she  rose  to  relieve  him  of  his  empty  cup, 
he  also  rose  to  return  it  to  the  table.  Laughing, 
they  put  it  down  on  the  tray,  each  holding  one  side 
of  the  saucer.  Then  when  it  was  safely  disposed  of, 
Prudence  turned  toward  him,  still  laughing  at  the 
silliness  of  it, — very  alluring,  very  winsome.  And 
Mr.  Rayburn,  unexpectedly  to  himself  as  to  her,  put 
his  arms  around  her  and  kissed  her.  He  was  aghast 
at  himself,  once  it  was  over,  and  Prudence, — wejl, 


AN  ADMIRER  157 

let  us  say  frankly  that  Prudence  was  only  relieved, 
for  it  came  to  her  in  a  flash  that  this  was  the  "dis- 
gusting thing"  for  which  she  had  so  fervently 
longed. 

"Mr.  Rayburn!" 

"That  was  very  stupid  and  unpardonable  of  me, 
Prudence,"  he  said  quickly,  "I  really  did  not  think 
what  I  was  doing.  But  you  were  so  sweet,  and — • 
I'm  awfully  fond  of  you,  Prudence,  you  know  that.'1 

Prudence  looked  at  him  thoughtfully.  She  felt 
that  this  hardly  gave  her  the  desired  opening.  So 
she  waited,  hoping  he  would  commit  himself  fur- 
ther. More  humbled  by  her  unnatural  silence,  he 
did  go  on. 

"You  know,  Prudence,  when  a  man  cares  for  a 
girl  as  I  care  for  you,  it  isn't  always  easy  for  him 
to  be  sober  and  sensible.  You  shouldn't  have  been 
so — so  dear." 

Prudence  sighed  happily.  She  was  content. 
This  gave  her  the  long-desired  cue. 

"Mr.  Rayburn,"  she  said  gently  but  decidedly, 
"I  think  you  ought  not  to  come  here  any  more." 

He  walked  over  to  her  quickly,  and  stood  beside 
the  chair  into  which  she  had  dropped  when  he 
kissed  her. 


158  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Don't  say  that,  Prudence,"  he  said  in  a  hurried 
low  voice. 

"It  is  true,"  she  persisted,  feeling  somehow  sorry, 
though  she  did  not  understand  why  she  should  feel 
so.  "I — I — well,  you  know  I — you  remember  what 
I  told  you  that  first  day,  don't  you  ?  About  getting 
married,  and  falling  in  love,  and  such  things.  It  is 
true.  I  don't  want  to  love  anybody,  and  I  don't 
want  to  get  married,  and  Fairy  says — it  is — re- 
motely possible — that  you  might  get — very  fond 
of  me." 

He  smiled  rather  grimly.  "Yes,  I  think  it  is — 
remotely  possible." 

"Then  that  settles  it,"  she  said  comfortably.  "And 
besides,  I  have  such  a  lot  to  do  that  I  can't — well, 
bother — spending  so  much  time  outside  as  I  have 
with  you.  I've  been  neglecting  my  work,  and  it  isn't 
right.  I  haven't  the  time." 

"Which  is  your  way  of  saying  that  you  do  not 
like  me,  isn't  it?" 

Prudence  stood  up  impulsively.  "Oh,  I  like 
you,  but — "  she  threw  out  her  hands  expressively. 
He  took  them  in  his,  tenderly,  firmly. 

"But,  Prudence,"  he  argued,  "that  is  because  the 
woman  in  you  isn't  awake.  You  may  never  love 


AN  ADMIRER  159 

me — a  dismal  possibility,  but  it  is  true.  But  don't 
you  think  it  only  fair  that  you  should  give  me  a 
chance  to  try  ?" 

"Oh,  but  that's  just  the  point,"  she  cried.  "I  do 
not  want  you  to  try.  I  do  not  want  to  run  any 
risk,  at  all.  I  wouldn't  marry  you  if  I  did  love  you 
— I  told  you  that  right  in  the  beginning." 

He  still  held  her  hands  in  one  of  his,  caressing 
them  slowly  with  the  other.  "What  is  there  about 
me  that  you  do  not  like?"  he  demanded  suddenly. 
"There  is  something,  I  know." 

And  with  her  awful  unbelievable  honesty,  Pru- 
dence told  him.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "that  is  true. 
I  hated  to  mention  it,  but  there  is  something !  Mr. 
Rayburn,  I  just  can't  stand  the  bugs!" 

"Good  heavens !    The  what?" 

"The  bugs !  I  can't  bear  for  you  to  be  near  me, 
because  I  keep  wondering  if  there  are  bugs  and 
things  in  your  pocket.  I'm  afraid  they'll  get  over 
on  me.  Even  now  it  makes  me  shiver  when  you 
hold  my  hands,  because  I  know  you've  been  hand- 
ling the  horrible  little  creatures  with  yours."  He 
dropped  her  hands  abruptly,  and  stared  at  her. 
"And  after  you  leave,  I  get  down  on  my  hands 
and  knees  and  look  over  the  floor,  and  ex- 


160  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

amine  the  chairs,  to  see  if  any  have  crawled  off! 
It's  a  terrible  feeling,  Mr.  Rayburn.  You  know  I 
told  you  I  hated  bugs. — I'm  afraid  I've  hurt  your 
feelings,"  she  said  sadly. 

"Where  in  the  world  did  you  get  such  an  idea 
as  that?"  he  demanded  rather  angrily.  "Do  you 
think  I  have  pet  bugs  to  carry  around  with  me  for 
company  ?" 

"No, — but  don't  you  remember  the  picnic, — 
and  how  you  kept  gathering  them  up  in  your  hand- 
kerchiefs and  putting  them  in  your  pockets?  And 
how  I  kept  squirming  around  to  get  on  the  other 
side, — I  was  trying  to  get  away  from  the  bugs !" 

"But,  my  heavens,  Prudence,  those  were  my  field 
clothes.  I  don't  put  bugs  in  these  pockets, — these 
are  my  Sunday  togs !"  He  smiled  a  little.  "And 
I  always  wash  my  hands,  you  know."  He  found  it 
humorous,  and  yet  it  hurt  him.  Such  a  little  thing 
to  prejudice  a  girl  so  strongly, — and  one  he  liked 
so  marvelously  well ! 

"You  might  forget,  and  put  them  in  these 
pockets, — it's  a  kind  of  habit  with  you,  I  suppose. 
And  just  plain  washing  won't  take  the  idea  of  bugs 
off  your  hands." 

"Prudence,  you  are  only  a  girl,— a  childish  girl, 


AN  ADMIRER  161 

but  a  very  sweet  one.  I  want  you  to  like  me.  When 
you  grow  up,  you  are  going  to  be  a  wonderfully 
good  and  lovely  woman.  I — I  am  going  to  want 
you  then.  I  know  it.  Let's  just  be  friends  now, 
can't  we — until  later — for  a  long  time  yet?  I'll 
promise  on  my  word  of  honor  never  to  put  another 
bug  in  my  pockets,  or  my  handkerchiefs.  But  I 
can't  promise  not  to  touch  them,  for  I  have  to  do  it 
in  class.  That's  how  I  earn  my  living!  But  I  will 
wash  my  hands  with  Ivory  soap  and  sapolio,  and  rub 
them  with  cold  cream,  and  powder  them,  and  per- 
fume them,  before  I  ever  come  near  you  again. 
Won't  that  do?" 

Prudence  shook  her  head.  "I  know  you  are 
laughing  at  me,"  she  said,  "but  I  always  told  you 
I  was  just  a  silly  simpleton.  And — it  isn't  the  bugs 
altogether.  I — I  like  it  better  to  be  with  my  sis- 
ters than " 

"Than  with  me?  I  see.  As  I  said,  the  woman 
of  you  is  still  sleeping.  Well,  we  are  young,  and 
I  will  wait.  I  won't  bother  you  any  more  for  a 
long  time,  Prudence,  but  I  shan't  forget  you.  And 
some  day  I  will  come  back  to  you  again."  He 
stared  at  her  moodily.  Then  he  put  his  hands  be- 
neath her  elbows,  and  looked  into  her  eyes  search- 


162  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ingly.  "You  are  a  strange  girl,  Prudence.  In  some 
ways,  you  are  so  womanly,  and  in  other  ways  so 
— pitifully  girlish!  All  the  woman  in  your  heart 
seems  to  be  given  to  your  sisters  and  your  father, 
and —  But  you  will  waken,  and  I  won't  hurry 
you."  Then  he  put  his  arms  around  her  again,  and 
whispered  in  her  ear,  "But  I  love  you,  Prudence, 
and — if  some  one  else  should  do  the  awakening — > 
it  would  hurt!"  Then  he  kissed  her,  and  went 
away. 

But  Prudence  ran  up-stairs,  singing  happily. 
"Oh,  I  feel  like  a  caged-up  bird  that  has  broken 
loose,"  she  cried  to  her  reflection  in  the  mirror 
jubilantly.  "Oh,  what  fun  it  will  be  to  come  home 
from  church  with  Fairy  and  the  twins,  the  way  I 
used  to  do!" 


CHAPTER  VII 

LESSONS   IN   ETIQUETTE 

CONNIE  was  lying  flat  on  her  back  near  th« 
register.  The  twins  were  sitting  on  the 
floor  near  her,  hearing  each  other  conjugate  Latin 
verbs.  And  Prudence,  with  her  darning  basket, 
was  earnestly  trying  to  solve  a  domestic  problem, — 
how  to  get  three  pairs  of  wearable  stockings  out  of 
eleven  hosiery  remnants.  So  Fairy  found  them  as 
she  came  in,  radiant  and  glowing. 

"Glorious  day,"  she  said,  glancing  impartially  at 
her  sisters.  "Just  glorious !  Why  are  you  all  hug- 
ging the  register,  may  I  ask  ?  It  is  perfect  weather. 
Connie,  you  should  be  out-of-doors  this  minute,  by 
all  means.  Twins,  aren't  you  grown-up  enough  to 
sit  on  chairs,  or  won't  your  f ooties  reach  the  floor  ? 
— Babbie,  Eugene  Babler,  you  know,  is  corning  to 
spend  the  evening,  Prudence." 

"What  is  going  on  to-night?"  queried  Prudence. 

"Nothing  is  going  on.  That's  why  he  is  coming. 
It's  too  cold  to  meander  around  outdoors  these 
163 


164  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

nights,  and  so  we  shall  have  to  amuse  ourselves  in- 
side as  best  we  can." 

The  whole  family  came  to  attention  at  this. 

"Oh,  goody!"  cried  Connie.  "Let's  make  taffy, 
shall  we,  Fairy  ?" 

"Certainly  not.  This  isn't  a  children's  party. 
You'll  go  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock  as  usual,  Connie 
mine.—  Now,  we  must  have  something  to  eat.  The 
question  is,  What  shall  it  be?" 

"Yes,"  agreed  Carol  with  enthusiasm, — Carol 
was  always  enthusiastic  on  the  subject  of  some- 
thing to  eat.  "Yes,  indeed,  that  is  the  question. 
What  shall  we  have?" 

"You  will  likely  have  pleasant  dreams,  Carol," 
was  the  cool  retort.  "Babbie  did  not  invite  himself 
to  spend  the  evening  with  you,  I  believe." 

"Do  you  mean  to  suggest,"  demanded  Lark  with 
withering  scorn,  "that  it  is  your  intention  to  shut 
yourself  up  alone  with  this — this  creature,  exclud- 
ing the  rest  of  us?" 

"Yes,  and  have  refreshments  for  just  you  two?" 
cried  Carol. 

"That  is  my  intention  most  certainly.  The  twins 
and  Connie  will  not  put  in  appearance  at  all.  Prue 
will  serve  the  refreshments,  and  will  eat  with  us. 


O-. 

O 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  165 

Babbie  and  I  shall  spend  the  evening  in  the  front 
room." 

"The  front  room?"  echoed  Prudence.  "This 
room  is  much  cheerier,  and  more  homelike." 

"Well,  Babbie  isn't  a  member  of  the  family,  you 
know,"  said  Fairy. 

"You  are  doing  your  best,"  sniffed  Carol. 

"Now,  you  girls  must  understand  right  off,  that 
things  are  different  here  from  what  they  were  at 
Exminster.  When  boys  came  to  the  house  there 
they  came  to  have  a  good  time  with  the  whole 
family.  But  here  it  is  very  different.  I've  been 
looking  around,  and  I've  got  on  to  the  system.  The 
proper  thing  is  to  receive  callers  privately,  without 
the  family  en  masse  sitting  by  and  superintending. 
That's  etiquette,  you  know.  And  one  must  always 
serve  refreshments.  More  etiquette.  Men  are  such 
greedy  animals,  they  do  not  care  to  go  places  where 
the  eats  aren't  forthcoming." 

"Men !  Are  you  referring  to  this  Babbling  crea- 
ture now?"  interposed  Carol. 

"Ouch!"  said  Lark. 

"But  won't  it  be  rather — poky — just  sitting  in 
the  front  room  by  yourselves  all  evening?"  asked 
Prudence  doubtfully,  ignoring  the  offended  twins. 


166  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  it  will.  But  it's  the  proper  thing 
to  do,"  said  Fairy  complacently. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  all  evening?"  Connie 
wanted  to  know.  "Just  sit  and  look  at  each  other 
and  admire  yourselves?" 

The  twins  thought  this  very  clever  of  Connie, 
so  they  both  said  "Ouch !"  approvingly. 

"Why,  no,  baby  dear,"  said  Fairy  good-natured- 
ly. "We  shall  talk.  Feast  our  souls  with  a  flow 
of  reason,  you  know.  We  shall  converse.  We  shall 
hold  pleasant  intercourse." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  more  fun  to  have  the  girls  in 
for  a  little  while?"  This  from  Prudence. 

"Oh,  it  might, — but  it  wouldn't  be  the  proper 
thing  at  all.  College  men  do  not  care  to  be  enter- 
tained by  babies." 

"No,"  snapped  Lark,  "the  wisdom  of  babies  is 
too  deep  for  these — these — these  men  in  embryo." 

This  was  so  exquisitely  said  that  Lark  was  quite 
restored  to  amiability  by  it.  "In  embryo,"  had  been 
added  to  her  vocabulary  that  very  day  in  the  biology 
class.  It  was  only  the  sheerest  good  fortune  which 
gave  her  the  opportunity  of  utilizing  it  so  soon.  And 
Carol  said  "Ouch!"  with  such  whole-souled  ad- 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  167 

miration  that  Lark's  spirit  soared  among  the  clouds. 
She  had  scored! 

"And  what  shall  we  serve  them?"  urged  Pru- 
dence. "I  suppose  it  would  hardly  do  to — pop  corn, 
would  it?" 

"No,  indeed.  Popping  corn  is  very  nice  for  the 
twins  and  the  little  boys  in  the  neighborhood."  Fairy 
smiled  with  relish  as  she  saw  the  twins  wince  at 
this  thrust.  "But  Babbie  and  I —  Oh,  never!  It 
wouldn't  do  at  all.  Now,  oyster  stew  and  crackers, 
— I  mean  wafers, " 

"Oysters  are  fearfully  expensive,  Fairy/'  ob- 
jected the  frugal  Prudence. 

"Oh,  we  can  stand  it  for  once,"  said  Fairy  easily. 
"This  is  the  first  time,  and  we  must  do  something 
extra.  Babbie  is  all  the  rage  at  school,  and 
the  girls  are  frantic  with  jealousy  because  I 
have  cut  everybody  else  out.  To  be  honest  about 
it,  I  can't  understand  it  myself.  Babbie's  such  a 
giddy  scatter-brained  youngster,  you'd  think  he'd 
prefer " 

"Do  you  like  him,  Fairy?  Don't  you  think  he's 
tiresome  ?  He  talks  so  much,  it  seems  to  me." 

"To  be  sure  I  like  him.    He's  great  fun.    He's 


168  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

always  joking  and  never  has  a  sensible  thought,  and 
hates  study.  He's  an  amusing  soul,  I  must  say. 
He's  going  to  attend  here  a  couple  of  years,  and 
then  study  pharmacy.  His  father  is  a  druggist  in 
Ottumwa,  and  quite  well  off.  The  only  reason 
Babbie  came  here  instead  of  going  to  a  big  col- 
lege in  the  East  is  because  his  father  is  a  trustee. 
Trustees  are  in  honor  bound  to  send  their  offspring 
to  the  college  they  trustee, — just  as  ministers  are 
obliged  to  trade  with  the  members  when  possible." 

"Even  if  they  short-weight  and  long-charge  you," 
put  in  Carol. 

"Carol!"  exclaimed  Prudence  reprovingly.  "Well, 
we'll  serve  oyster  stew  then.  Will  you  eat  in  the 
dining-room  ?" 

"No,  we'll  eat  on  the  little  table  in  the  front 
room, — informally,  you  know.  You  must  get  it 
ready,  and  arrange  it  nicely  on  the  big  tray.  Then 
you  must  come  to  the  door  and  say,  'Wouldn't  you 
like  a  little  oyster  stew?'  Say  it  carelessly, 
as  if  we  always  have  something  to  eat  before 
going  to  bed.  And  I'll  say ,  'Oh,  yes,  Pru- 
dence, bring  it  right  in.'  Then  you  bring  it  in,  and 
we'll  all  eat  together. — That's  the  way  to  do  it! 
Babbie's  had  dates  with  the  very  swellest  girls 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  169 

in  school,  and  he  knows  about  such  things.  We 
must  do  it  up  brown !" 

"Swell !"  mocked  Lark.  "Do  it  up  brown !  Oh, 
you'll  be  a  record-breaker  of  a  college  professor 
all  right.  I'm  sure  this  young  Babler  is  just  the 
type  of  man  to  interest  the  modern  college  pro- 
fessor! Swell!  Do  it  up  brown!" 

"Ouch!"  grinned  Carol. 

"Now,  will  you  twins  run  down-town  for  the 
oysters  ?"  asked  Prudence  briskly. 

"Who?  Us?"  demanded  Lark,  indignantly  and 
ungrammatically.  "Do  you  think  we  can  carry 
home  oysters  for  the — the — personal  consumption 
of  this  Babbling  young  prince  ?  Not  so !  Let  Fairy 
go  after  the  oysters!  She  can  carry  them  home 
tenderly  and  appreciatively.  Carol  and  I  can't !  We 
don't  grasp  the  beauty  of  that  man's  nature." 

"Oh,  yes,  twinnies,  I  think  you'll  go,  all  right. 
Hurry  now,  for  you  must  be  back  in  time  to  help 
me  get  supper.  Fairy'll  have  to  straighten  the  front 
room,  and  we  won't  have  time.  Run  along,  and  be 
quick." 

For  a  few  seconds  the  twins  gazed  at  each  other 
studiously.  Neither  spoke.  Without  a  word,  they 
went  up-stairs  to -prepare  for  their  errand. 


170  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

They  whispered  softly  going  through  the  upper 

hall. 

"We'd  better  make  a  list,"  said  Carol  softly. 

So  with  heads  close  together  they  wrote  out  sev- 
eral items  on  a  piece  of  paper. 

"It'll  cost  quite  a  lot,"  objected  Carol.     "Thirty 
cents,  anyhow.     And  Prudence' 11  make  us  pay  for 
the  oysters,  sure.     Remember  that" 
\'We'd  better  let  Connie  in,  too,"  suggested  Lark. 

Connie  was  hastily  summoned,  and  the  twins 
whispered  explanations  in  her  willing  ears.  "Good!" 
she  said  approvingly.  "It'll  serve  'em  right." 

"But  it'll  cost  money,"  said  Carol.  "How  much 
have  you  got?" 

Then  Connie  understood  why  she  had  been  con- 
sulted. The  twins  always  invited  her  to  join  their 
enterprises  when  money  was  required. 

"A  quarter,"  she  faltered. 

"Well,  we'll  go  shares,"  said  Lark  generously. 
"We'll  pay  a  dime  apiece.  It  may  not  take  that 
much.  But  if  Prudence  makes  us  pay  for  the 
oysters,  you'll  have  to  pay  a  third.  Will  you  do 
that?" 

"Yes,  indeed."  Connie  was  relieved.  She  did 
not  always  get  off  so  easily! 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  171 

"Twins!  You  must  hurry!"  This  was  Pru- 
dence at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs.  And  the  twins 
set  off  quite  hurriedly.  Their  first  call  was  at  the 
meat  market. 

"A  pint  of  oysters,"  said  Lark  briefly. 

When  he  brought  them  to  her,  she  smelled  them 
suspiciously.  Then  Carol  smelled. 

"Are  these  rotten  oysters?"  she  demanded  hope- 
'fully. 

"No,"  he  answered,  laughing.     "Certainly  not." 

"Have  you  got  any  rotten  ones?" 

"No,  we  don't  keep  that  kind."  He  was  still 
laughing. 

The  twins  sighed  and  hurried  next  door  to  the 
grocer's. 

"A  nickel's  worth  of  pepper — the  strongest  you 
have." 

This  was  quickly  settled — and  the  grave-faced 
twins  betook  themselves  to  the  corner  drug  store. 

"We — we  want  something  with  a  perfectly  awful 
smell,"  Lark  explained  soberly. 

"What  kind  of  a  smell?" 

"We  don't  care  what  kind,  but  it  must  be  per- 
fectly sickening.  Like  something  rotten,  or  dead, 
if  you  have  it.  Something  that  will  stay  smelly 


172  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

for  several  hours, — but  it  mustn't  be  dangerous,  of 
course." 

"What  do  you  want  it  for?" 

"We  want  it  to  put  in  a  room  to  give  it  a  hor- 
rible smell  for  an  hour  or  so."  Lark  winked  at 
him  solemnly.  "It's  a  joke,"  she  further  eluci- 
dated. 

"I  see."  His  eyes  twinkled.  "I  think  I  can  fix 
you  up."  A  moment  later  he  handed  her  a  small 
bottle.  "Just  sprinkle  this  over  the  carpet.  It 
won't  do  any  harm,  and  it  smells  like  thunder.  It 
costs  a  quarter." 

Carol  frowned.  "I  suppose  we'll  have  to  take 
it,"  she  said,  "but  it's  pretty  expensive.  I  hate  to 
have  druggists  get  such  a  lot  of  money." 

He  laughed  aloud.  "I  hate  to  have  you  get  a 
good  licking  to-morrow,  too, — but  you'll  get  it  just 
the  same,  or  I  miss  my  guess." 

When  the  twins  arrived  home,  Fairy  was  just 
cutting  the  candy  she  had  made.  "It's  delicious," 
she  said  to  Prudence.  "Here's  a  nice  dishful  for 
you  and  the  girls. — Pitch  in,  twins,  and  help  your- 
selves. It's  very  nice." 

The  twins    waved  her  haughtily    away.     "No, 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  173 

thank  you,"  they  said.  "We  couldn't  eat  that 
candy  with  relish.  We  are  unworthy." 

"All  right,"  Prudence  put  in  quickly,  as  Fairy 
only  laughed.  "I'll  put  it  in  the  cupboard,  and 
Fairy  and  I  will  eat  it  to-morrow.  It's  perfectly 
fine, — simply  delicious." 

But  the  twins  were  not  to  be  tempted.  Before 
they  went  up-stairs,  Lark  inquired  sarcastically: 

"I  suppose,  Fairy,  you'll  don  your  best  blue 
silk  in  honor  of  this  event?" 

"Oh,  no,"  was  the  ready  answer,  "I'll  just  wear 
my  little  green  muslin.  It's  old,  but  very  nice  and 
comfortable — just  right  for  an  evening  at  home." 

"Yes,"  scoffed  Carol,  "and  of  course  you  are 
remembering  that  every  one  says  it  is  the  most 
becoming  dress  you  have." 

"Oh,  yes,"  laughed  Fairy,  "I'm  remembering 
that,  all  right." 

Then  the  twins  went  up-stairs,  but  not  to  their 
own  room  at  once.  Instead  they  slipped  noiselessly 
into  the  front  bedroom,  and  a  little  later  Carol 
came  out  into  the  hall  and  stood  listening  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  as  though  on  guard. 

"Be  sure  and  leave  quite  a  few  stitches  in,  Lark," 


174  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

she  whispered  once.  "We  want  it  to  hang  together 
until  Babbie  gets  here." 

That  was  all.  Presently  Lark  emerged,  and 
their  own  door  closed  behind  them. 

"It's  a  good  thing  father  has  to  go  to  the  trus- 
tees' meeting  to-night,  isn't  it?"  asked  Carol.  And 
Lark  agreed,  absently.  She  was  thinking  of  the 
oysters. 

As  soon  as  they  finished  supper,  Lark  said, 
"Don't  you  think  we'd  better  go  right  to  bed,  Prue  ? 
We  don't  want  to  taint  the  atmosphere  of  the  par- 
sonage. Of  course,  Fairy  will  want  to  wash  the 
dishes  herself  to  make  sure  they  are  clean  and  shin- 
ing." 

"Oh,  no,"  disclaimed  Fairy,  still  good-naturedly. 
"I  can  give  an  extra  rub  to  the  ones  we  want  to 
use, — that  is  enough.  I  do  appreciate  the  thought, 
though,  thanks  very  much." 

So  the  twins  plunged  in,  carefully  keeping  Con- 
nie beside  them.  "She  has  such  a  full-to-overflow- 
ing look,"  said  Carol.  "If  we  don't  keep  hold  of 
her,  she'll  let  something  bubble  over."  Connie  had 
a  dismal  propensity  for  giving  things  away, — the 
twins  had  often  suffered  from  it.  To-night,  they 
were  determined  to  forestall  such  a  calamity. 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  175 

Then  they  all  three  went  to  bed.  To  be  sure  it 
was  ridiculously  early,  but  they  were  all  deter- 
mined. 

"We  feel  weak  under  this  unusual  strain.  Our 
nerves  can't  stand  the  tension.  We  really  must 
retire  to  rest.  Maybe  a  good  night's  sleep  will  re- 
store us  to  normal,"  Lark  explained  gravely. 

Fairy  only  laughed.  "Good!"  she  cried.  "Do 
go  to  bed.  The  only  time  I  am  sure  of  you  is  when 
you  are  in  your  beds.  Do  you  mind  if  I  tie  you  in, 
to  make  assurance  doubly  sure?" 

But  the  twins  and  Connie  had  disappeared. 

"You  keep  your  eyes  open,  Fairy,"  Prudence 
whispered  melodramatically.  "Those  girls  do  not 
look  right.  Something  is  hanging  over  our  heads." 
And  she  added  anxiously,  "Oh,  I'll  be  so  disap- 
pointed if  things  go  badly.  This  is  the  first  time 
we've  ever  lived  up  to  etiquette,  and  I  feel  it  is 
really  a  crisis." 

Fairy  was  a  little  late  getting  up-stairs  to  dress, 
but  she  took  time  to  drop  into  her  sisters'  room. 
They  were  all  in  bed,  breathing  heavily.  She 
walked  from  one  to  another,  and  stood  above  them 
majestically. 

"Asleep !"  she  cried.    "Ah,  Fortune  is  kind.  They 


176     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

are  asleep.     How  I  love  these  darling  little  twin- 
nies, — in  their  sleep !" 

An  audible  sniff  from  beneath  the  covers,  and 
Fairy,  smiling  mischievously,  went  into  the  front 
room  to  prepare  for  her  caller. 

The  bell  rang  as  she  was  dressing.  Prudence 
went  to  the  door,  preternaturally  ceremonious,  and 
ushered  Mr.  Babler  into  the  front  room.  She 
turned  on  the  electric  switch  as  she  opened  the  door. 
She  was  too  much  impressed  with  the  solemnity  of 
the  occasion  to  take  much  note  of  her  surroundings, 
and  she  did  not  observe  that  the  young  man  sniffed 
in  a  peculiar  manner  as  he  entered  the  room. 

"I'll  call  Fairy,"  she  said  demurely. 

"Tell  her  she  needn't  primp  for  me,"  he  an- 
swered, laughing.  "I  know  just  how  she  looks  al- 
ready." 

But  Prudence  was  too  heavily  burdened  to  laugh. 
She  smiled  hospitably,  and  closed  the  door  upon 
him.  Fairy  was  tripping  down  the  stairs,  very  tall, 
very  handsome,  very  gay.  She  pinched  her  sister's 
arm  as  she  passed,  and  the  front  room  door  swung 
behind.  But  she  did  not  greet  her  friend.  She 
stood  erect  by  the  door,  her  head  tilted  on  one  side, 
sniffing,  sniffing. 

i 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  177 

"What  in  the  world?"  she  wondered.  Then  she 
blushed.  Perhaps  it  was  something  he  had  used  on 
his  hair!  Or  perhaps  he  had  been  having  his  suit 
cleaned!  "Oh,  I  guess  it's  nothing,  after  all,"  she 
stammered.  But  Eugene  Babler  was  strangely 
quiet.  He  looked  about  the  room  in  a  peculiar  ques- 
tioning way. 

"Shall  I  raise  a  window?"  he  suggested  finally. 
"It's  rather — er — hot  in  here." 

"Yes,  do,"  she  urged.  "Raise  all  of  them.  It's 
— do  you — do  you  notice  a — a  funny  smell  in  here  ? 
Or  am  I  imagining  it?  It — it  almost  makes  me 
sick!" 

"Yes,  there  is  a  smell,"  he  said,  in  evident  relief. 
"I  thought  maybe  you'd  been  cleaning  the  carpet 
with  something.  It's  ghastly.  Can't  we  go  some- 
where else?" 

"Come  on."  She  opened  the  door  into  the  sitting- 
room.  "We're  coming  out  here  if  you  do  not  mind, 
Prue."  And  Fairy  explained  the  difficulty. 

"Why,  that's  very  strange,"  said  Prudence,  knit- 
ting her  brows.  "I  was  in  there  right  after  sup- 
per, and  I  didn't  notice  anything.  What  does  it 
smell  like?" 

"It's  a  new  smell  to  me,"  laughed  Fairy,  "but 


178     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

something  about  it  is  strangely  suggestive  of  our 
angel-twins." 

Prudence  went  to  investigate,  and  Fairy  shoved 
a  big  chair  near  the  table,  waving  her  hand  toward 
it  lightly  with  a  smile  at  Babbie.  Then  she  sank 
into  a  low  rocker,  and  leaned  one  arm  on  the  table. 
She  wrinkled  her  forehead  thoughtfully. 

"That  smell,"  she  began.  "I  am  very  suspicious 
about  it.  It  was  not  at  all  natural " 

"Excuse  me,  Fairy,"  he  said,  ill  at  ease  for  the 
first  time  in  her  knowledge  of  him.  "Did  you  know 
your  sleeve  was  coming  out?" 

Fairy  gasped,  and  raised  her  arm. 

"Both  arms,  apparently,"  he  continued,  smiling, 
but  his  face  was  flushed. 

"Excuse  me  just  a  minute,  will  you  ?"  Fairy  was 
unruffled.  She  sought  her  sister.  "Look  here, 
Prue, — what  do  you  make  of  this?  I'm  coming  to 
pieces !  I'm  hanging  by  a  single  thread,  as  it  were." 

Her  sleeves  were  undoubtedly  ready  to  drop  off 
at  a  second's  notice!  Prudence  was  shocked.  She 
grew  positively  white  in  the  face. 

"Oh,  Fairy,"  she  wailed.     "We  are  disgraced." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Fairy  coolly.  "I  remember 
now  that  Lark  was  looking  for  the  scissors  before 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  179 

supper.  Aren't  those  twins  unique  ?  This  is  almost 
bordering  on  talent,  isn't  it?  Don't  look  so  dis- 
tressed, Prue.  Etiquette  itself  must  be  subservient 
to  twins,  it  seems.  Don't  forget  to  bring  in  the 
stew  at  a  quarter  past  nine,  and  have  it  as  good 
as  possible, — please,  dear." 

"I  will,"  vowed  Prudence,  "I'll— I'll  use  cream. 
Oh,  those  horrible  twins!" 

"Go  in  and  entertain  Babbie  till  I  come  down, 
won't  you?"  And  Fairy  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs, 
humming  a  snatch  of  song. 

But  Prudence  did  a  poor  job  of  entertain- 
ing Babbie  during  her  sister's  absence.  She 
felt  really  dizzy!  Such  a  way  to  introduce 
Etiquette  into  the  parsonage  life.  She  was 
glad  to  make  her  escape  from  the  room  when  Fairy 
returned,  a  graceful  figure  in  the  fine  blue  silk !  She 
went  back  to  the  dining-room,  and  painstakingly 
arranged  the  big  tray  for  the  designated  moment 
of  its  entrance, — according  to  etiquette.  Fairy  and 
Babbie  in  the  next  room  talked  incessantly,  laughing 
often  and  long,  and  Prudence,  hearing,  smiled  in 
sympathy.  She  herself  thought  it  would  be  alto- 
gether stupid  to  be  shut  up  in  a  room  alone  with 
"just  a  man"  for  a  whole  evening, — but  etiquette 


180  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

required  it.  Fairy  knew  about  such  things,  of 
course. 

A  little  after  nine,  she  called  out  dismally, 
"Fairy!"  And  Fairy,  fearing  fresh  disaster,  came 
running  out. 

"What  now?    What " 

"I  forget  what  you  told  me  to  say,"  whispered 
Prudence  wretchedly,  "what  was  it?  The  soup  is 
ready,  and  piping  hot, — but  what  is  it  you  want 
me  to  say?" 

Fairy  screamed  with  laughter.  "You  goose!" 
she  cried.  "Say  anything  you  like.  I  was  just 
giving  you  a  tip,  that  was  all.  It  doesn't  make 
any  difference  what  you  say." 

"Oh,  I  am  determined  to  do  my  part  just  right," 
vowed  Prudence  fervently,  "according  to  etiquette 
and  all.  What  was  it  you  said  ?" 

Fairy  stifled  her  laughter  with  difficulty,  and  said 
in  a  low  voice,  "Wouldn't  you  like  a  little  nice,  hot, 
oyster  stew?"  Prudence  repeated  it  after  her 
breathlessly. 

So  Fairy  returned  once  more,  and  soon  after  Pru- 
dence tapped  on  the  door.  Then  she  opened  it,  and 
thrust  her  curly  head  inside.  "Wouldn't  you  like  a 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  181 

little  nice,  hot,  oyster  stew  ?"  she  chirped  methodic- 
ally. And  Fairy  said,  "Oh,  yes  indeed,  Prudence,— 
this  is  so  nice  of  you." 

The  stew  was  steaming  hot,  and  the  three  gath- 
ered sociably  about  the  table.  Prudence  was  talk- 
ing. Fairy  was  passing  the  ''crackers," — Prudence 
kicked  her  foot  gently  beneath  the  table,  to  remind 
her  that  etiquette  calls  them  "wafers."  So  it  hap- 
pened that  Babbie  was  first  to  taste  the  steaming 
stew.  He  gasped,  and  gulped,  and  swallowed  some 
water  with  more  haste  than  grace.  Then  he  toyed 
idly  with  spoon  and  wafer  until  Prudence  tasted 
also.  Prudence  did  not  gasp.  She  did  not  cry  out. 
She  looked  up  at  her  sister  with  wide  hurt  eyes, — 
a  world  of  pathos  in  the  glance.  But  Fairy  did  not 
notice. 

"Now,  please  do  not  ask  me  to  talk  until  I  have 
finished  my  soup,"  she  was  saying  brightly,  "I 
simply  can  not  think  and  appreciate  oyster  stew 
at  the  same  time." 

Then  she  appreciated  it !  She  dropped  her  spoon 
with  a  great  clatter,  and  jumped  up  from  the  table. 
"Mercy!"  she  shrieked.  "It  is  poisoned!" 

Babbie  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  until 


182  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

his  eyes  were  wet.  Prudence's  eyes  were  wet,  too, 
but  not  from  laughter !  What  would  etiquette  think 
of  her,  after  this? 

"What  did  you  do  to  this  soup,  Prudence?"  de- 
manded Fairy. 

"I  made  it, — nothing  else,"  faltered  poor  Pru- 
dence, quite  crushed  by  this  blow.  And  oysters 
forty  cents  a  pint! 

"It's  pepper,  I  think,"  gasped  Babbie.  "My  in- 
sides  bear  startling  testimony  to  the  presence  of 
pepper." 

And  he  roared  again,  while  Prudence  began  a 
critical  examination  of  the  oysters.  She  found 
them  literally  stuffed  with  pepper,  there  was  no 
doubt  of  it.  The  twins  had  done  deadly  work! 
Their  patience,  at  least,  was  commendable, — it 
seemed  that  not  one  oyster  had  escaped  their  at- 
tention. The  entire  pint  had  been  ruined  by  the 
pepper. 

"Revenge,  ye  gods,  how  sweet,"  chanted  Fairy. 
"The  twins  are  getting  even  with  a  vengeance, — the 
same  twins  you  said  were  adorable,  Babbie."  It 
must  be  said  for  Fairy  that  her  good  nature  could 
stand  almost  anything.  Even  this  did  not  seriously 
disturb  her.  "Do  you  suppose  you  can  find  us  some 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  183 

milk,  Prue  ?  And  crackers !  I'm  so  fond  of  crack- 
ers and  milk,  aren't  you,  Babbie  ?" 

"Oh,  I  adore  it.  But  serve  a  microscope  with  it, 
please.  I  want  to  examine  it  for  microbes  before 
I  taste." 

But  Prudence  did  better  than  that.  She  made 
some  delicious  cocoa,  and  opened  a  can  of  pear  pre- 
serves, donated  to  the  parsonage  by  the  amiable 
Mrs.  Adams.  The  twins  were  very  fond  of  pear 
preserves,  and  had  been  looking  forward  to  eating 
these  on  their  approaching  birthday.  They  were 
doomed  to  disappointment !  The  three  had  a  merry 
little  feast,  after  all,  and  their  laughter  rang  out 
so  often  and  so  unrestrainedly  that  the  twins  shook 
in  their  beds  with  rage  and  disappointment. 

Mr.  Starr  came  in  while  they  were  eating,  and 
joined  them  genially.  But  afterward,  when  Pru- 
dence realized  that  etiquette  called  for  their  retire- 
ment, her  father  still  sat  complacently  by  the  regis- 
ter, talking  and  laughing.  Prudence  fastened  her 
eyes  upon  him. 

"Well,  I  must  honestly  go  to  bed,"  she  said,  gaz- 
ing hypnotically  at  her  father.  "I  know  you  will 
excuse  me.  I  must  store  up  my  strength  to  deal 
with  the  twins  in  the  morning." 


184  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

She  got  up  from  her  chair,  and  moved  restlessly 
about  the  room,  still  boring  her  father  with  her  eyes. 
He  did  not  move.  She  paused  beside  him,  and 
slipped  her  hand  under  his  elbow. 

"Now,  father,"  she  said  gaily,  "we  must  put  our 
heads  together,  and  think  out  a  proper  punishment 
for  the  awful  creatures." 

Her  hand  was  uplifting,  and  Mr.  Starr  rose  with 
it.  Together  they  left  the  room  with  cordial  good 
nights,  and  inviting  Mr.  Babler  to  "try  the  parson- 
age again."  Prudence  listened  outside  the  twins' 
door,  and  heard  them  breathing  loudly.  Then  she 
went  to  her  own  room,  and  snuggling  down  beneath 
.the  covers,  laughed  softly  to  herself. 

"Etiquette!"  she  gurgled.  "Etiquette!  There's 
no  room  for  such  a  thing  in  a  parsonage, — I  see 
that!" 

It  speaks  well  for  the  courage  of  Babbie,  and 
the  attractions  of  Fairy,  that  he  came  to  the  par- 
sonage again  and  again.  In  time  he  became  the 
best  of  friends  with  the  twins  themselves,  but  he 
always  called  them  "the  adorables,"  and  they  never 
asked  him  why.  The  punishment  inflicted  upon 
them  by  Prudence  rankled  in  their  memories  for 
many  months.  Indeed,  upon  that  occasion,  Pru- 


LESSONS  IN  ETIQUETTE  185 

dence  fairly  surpassed  herself  in  the  ingenuity  she 
displayed.  The  twins  considered  themselves  very 
nearly  as  grown-up  as  Fairy,  and  the  fact  that  she 
was  a  young  lady,  and  they  were  children,  rilled 
their  hearts  with  bitterness.  They  never  lost  an 
opportunity  of  showing  their  independence  where 
she  was  concerned.  And  with  marvelous  insight, 
Prudence  used  Fairy  as  her  weapon  of  punish- 
ment,— in  fact,  the  twins  called  Fairy  the  "ducking- 
stool"  for  many  days. 

"The  offense  was  against  Fairy,"  said  Prudence, 
with  a  solemnity  she  did  not  feel,  '"and  the  repara- 
tion must  be  done  to  her.  For  three  weeks,  you 
must  do  all  of  her  bedroom  work,  and  run  every 
errand  she  requires.  Moreover,  you  must  keep  her 
shoes  well  cleaned  and  nicely  polished,  and  must  do 
every  bit  of  her  darning!" 

The  twins  would  have  preferred  whipping  a  thou- 
sand times.  They  felt  they  had  got  a  whipping's 
worth  of  pleasure  out  of  their  mischief!  But  a 
punishment  like  this  sat  heavily  upon  their  proud 
young  shoulders,  and  from  that  time  on  they  held 
Fairy  practically  immune  from  their  pranks. 

But  Prudence  did  not  bother  her  head  about  eti- 
quette after  that  experience.  "I'm  strong  for  com- 


fort,"  she  declared,  "and  since  the  two  can  not  live 
together  in  our  family,  I  say  we  do  without  eti- 
quette." 

^     And  Fairy  nodded  in  agreement,  smiling  good- 

•'  naturedly. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

t 

THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  OF  WINTER 

PRUDENCE  and  Fairy  stood  in  the 'bay  win- 
dow of  the  sitting-room,  and  looked  out  at  the 
thickly  falling  snow.  Already  the  ground  was 
whitely  carpeted,  and  the  low-branched  peach  trees 
just  outside  the  parsonage  windows  were  beginning 
to  bow  down  beneath  their  burdens. 

"Isn't  it  beautiful,  Prudence?"  whispered  Fairy. 
"Isn't  it  beautiful?  Oh,  I  love  it  when  it  snows." 

"Yes,  and  you  love  it  when  the  sun  shines,  too," 
said  Prudence,  "and  when  it  rains,  and  when  the 
wind  is  blowing.  You  have  the  soul  of  a  poet, 
that's  what  is  the  matter  with  you.  You  are  a  na- 
ture-fiend, as  Carol  would  say." 

Fairy  turned  abruptly  from  the  window.  "Don't 
talk  for  a  minute,  Prue, — I  want  to  write." 

So  Prudence  stood  quietly  in  the  window,  listen- 
ing to  the  pencil  scratching  behind  her. 

"Listen  now,  Prue, — how  is  this?"  Fairy  had 
a  clear  expressive  voice,  "a  bright  voice,"  Prudence 

187 


188  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

called  it.  And  as  she  read  her  simple  lines  aloud, 
the  heart  of  Prudence  swelled  with  pride.  To  Pru- 
dence, Fairy  was  a  wonderful  girl. 

"Good  night,  little  baby  earth,  going  to  sleep, 
Tucked  in  your  blankets,  all  woolly  and  deep. 
Close  your  tired  eyelids,  droop  your  tired  head, 
Nestle  down  sweetly  within  your  white  bed. 
Kind  Mother  Sky,  bending  softly  above, 
Is  holding  you  close  in  her  bosom  of  love. 
Closely  she  draws  the  white  coverlets  warm, 
She  will  be  near  you  to  shield  you  from  harm. 
Soon  she  will  set  all  her  candles  alight, 
To  scatter  the  darkness,  and  save  you  from  fright. 
Then  she  will  leave  her  cloud-doorway  ajar, 
To  watch  you,  that  nothing  your  slumbers  may 

mar. 

Rest,  little  baby  earth,  rest  and  sleep  tight, 
The  winter  has  come,  and  we  bid  you  good  night." 

Fairy  laughed,  but  her  face  was  flushed.  "How 
is  that?"  she  demanded. 

"Oh,  Fairy,"  cried  Prudence,  "it  is  wonderful! 
How  can  you  think  of  such  sweet  little  things? 
May  I  have  it?  May  I  keep  it?  Oh,  I  think  it  is 
perfectly  dear —  I  wish  I  could  do  that!  I  never 
in  the  world  would  have  thought  of  baby  earth  go- 
ing to  sleep  and  Mother  Sky  tucking  her  in  white 
blankets. —  I  think  you  are  just  wonderful,  Fairy !" 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  189 

Fairy's  eyes  were  bright  at  the  praise,  but  she 
laughed  as  she  answered.  "You  always  think  me 
and  my  scribbles  perfection,  Prue, — even  the  love 
verses  that  shocked  the  Ladies'  Aid.  You  are  a 
bad  critic.  But  doesn't  the  snow  make  you  think 
— pretty  things,  Prudence?  Come  now,  as  you 
stood  at  the  window  there,  what  were  you  think- 
ing?" 

"I  was  just  wondering  if  Connie  wore  her  rub* 
bers  to  school,  and  if  father  remembered  to  take 
his  muffler." 

Fairy  burst  into  renewed  laughter.  "Oh,  you 
precious,  old,  practical  Prudence,"  she  gurgled. 
"Rubbers  and  mufflers,  with  such  a  delicious  snow- 
fall as  this!  Oh,  Prudence,  shame  upon  you." 

Prudence  was  ashamed.  "Oh,  I  know  I  am  a 
perfect  idiot,  Fairy,"  she  said.  "I  know  it  better 
than  anybody  else.  I  am  so  ashamed  of  myself, 
all  the  time."  Then  she  added  rather  shyly,  "Fairy, 
are  you  ashamed  of  me  sometimes  ?  When  the  col- 
lege girls  are  here,  and  you  are  all  talking  so  bril- 
liantly, aren't  you  kind  of  mortified  that  I  am  so 
stupid  and  dull  ?  I  do  not  care  if  outsiders  do  think 
I  am  inferior  to  the  rest  of  you,  but — really  I  do 
not  want  you  to  be  ashamed  of  me !  I — oh,  I  know 


190  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

at  myself, — that  I  do  not  amount  to  anything,  and 
never  will)  but — it  would  hurt  if  I  thought  you  and 
the  twins  were  going  to  find  me — humiliating." 
Prudence  was  looking  at  her  sister  hungrily,  her 
lips  drooping,  her  eyes  dark. 

For  a  long  instant  Fairy  stared  at  her  incredu- 
lously. Then  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  face  white, 
her  eyes  blazing. 

"Prudence  Starr,"  she  cried  furiously,  "how  dare 
you  say  such  things  of  us?  Do  you  think  we  are 
as  despicable  as  all  that?  Oh,  Prudence,  I  never 
was  so  insulted  in  all  my  life!  Ashamed  of  you! 
Ashamed —  Why,  we  are  proud  of  you,  every  one 
of  us,  daddy,  too !  We  think  you  are  the  finest  and 
dearest  girl  that  ever  lived.  We  think — >  Oh,  I 
think  God  Himself  must  be  proud  of  a  girl  like 
you,  Prudence  Starr!  Ashamed  of  you!" 

And  Fairy,  bursting  into  tears,  rushed  wildly  out 
of  the  room.  For  all  her  poetical  nature,  Fairy 
was  usually  self-restrained  and  calm.  Only  twice 
before  in  all  her  life  had  Prudence  seen  her  so  tem- 
pest-tossed, and  now,  greatly  disturbed,  yet  pleased 
at  the  passionate  avowals,  she  hurried  away  in 
search  of  her  sister.  She  needed  no  more  assur- 
ance of  her  attitude. 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  191 

So  the  twins  and  Connie  came  into  an  empty 
room,  and  chattered  away  to  themselves  abstract- 
edly for  an  hour.  Then  Prudence  came  down.  In- 
stantly Connie  was  asked  the  all-important  question : 

"Are  your  feet  wet  ?" 

Connie  solemnly  took  three  steps  across  the  room. 
"Hear  me  sqush,"  she  said  proudly.  She  did 
sqush,  too! 

"Constance  Starr,  I  am  ashamed  of  you!  This 
is  positively  wicked.  You  know  it  is  a  law  of  the 
Medes  and  Persians  that  you  change  your  shoes 
and  stockings  as  soon  as  you  come  in  when  your 
feet  are  wet.  Do  it  at  once.  I'll  get  some  hot 
water  so  you  can  soak  your  feet,  too.  And  you 
shall  drink  some  good  hot  peppermint  tea,  into  the 
bargain.  I'll  teach  you  to  sit  around  in  wet  clothes ! 
Do  you  think  I  want  an  invalid  on  my  hands?" 

"Oh,  don't  be  so  fussy,"  said  Connie  fretfully, 
"wet  feet  don't  do  any  harm."  But  she  obligingly 
soaked  her  feet,  and  drank  the  peppermint. 

"Are  your  feet  wet,  twins?" 

"No,"  said  Lark,  "we  have  better  judgment  than 
to  go  splashing  through  the  wet  old  snow. — What's 
the  matter  with  you,  Carol?  Why  don't  you  sit 
still?  Are  your  feet  wet?" 


192  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"No,  but  it's  too  hot  in  this  room.  My  clothes 
feel  sticky.  May  I  open  the  door,  Prudence?'* 

"Mercy,  no!  The  snow  is  blowing  a  hurricane 
now.  It  isn't  very  hot  in  here,  Carol.  You've  been 
running  outdoors  in  the  cold,  and  that  makes  it 
seem  hot.  You  must  peel  the  potatoes  now,  twins, 
it's  time  to  get  supper.  Carol,  you  run  up-stairs 
and  ask  papa  if  he  got  his  feet  wet.  Between  him 
and  Connie,  I  do  not  have  a  minute's  peace  in  the 
winter  time !" 

"You  go,  Lark,"  said  Carol.    "My  head  aches." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  rub  it  ?"  asked  Prudence,  as 
Lark  skipped  up-stairs  for  her  twin. 

"No,  it's  just  the  closeness  in  here.  It  doesn't 
ache  very  bad.  If  we  don't  have  more  fresh  air, 
we'll  all  get  something  and  die,  Prudence. —  I 
tell  you  that.  This  room  is  perfectly  stuffy. — I  do 
not  want  to  talk  any  more."  And  Carol  got  up 
from  her  chair  and  walked  restlessly  about  the 
room. 

But  Carol  was  sometimes  given  to  moods,  and 
so,  without  concern,  Prudence  went  to  the  kitchen 
to  prepare  the  evening  meal. 

"Papa  says  his  feet  are  not  wet,  and  that  you  are 
a  big  simpleton,  and —  Oh,  did  you  make  cinnamon 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  193 

rolls  to-day,  Prue?  Oh,  goody!  Carrie,  come  on 
out!  Look, — she  made  cinnamon  rolls." 

Connie,  too,  hastened  out  to  the  kitchen  in  her 
bare  feet,  and  was  promptly  driven  back  by  the 
'watchful  Prudence. 

"I  just  know  you  are  going  to  be  sick,  Connie, — 
I  feel  it  in  my  bones.  And  walking  out  in  that 
cold  kitchen  in  your  bare  feet !  You  can  just  drink 
some  more  peppermint  tea  for  that,  now." 

"Well,  give  me  a  cinnamon  roll  to  go  with  it," 
urged  Connie.  "Peppermint  is  awfully  dry,  taken 
by  itself." 

Lark  hooted  gaily  at  this  sentiment,  but  joined 
her  sister  in  pleading  for  cinnamon  rolls. 

"No,  wait  until  supper  is  ready.  You  do  not 
need  to  help  peel  the  potatoes  to-night,  Carol.  Run 
back  where  it  is  warm,  and  you  must  not  read  if 
your  head  aches.  You  read  too  much  anyhow.  I'll 
help  Lark  with  the  potatoes.  No,  do  not  take  the 
paper,  Carol, — I  said  you  must  not  read." 

Then  Lark  and  Prudence,  working  together,  and 
talking  much,  prepared  the  supper  for  the  family. 
When  they  gathered  about  the  table,  Prudence 
looked  critically  at  Connie. 

"Are  you  beginning  to  feel  sick?     Do  you  feel 


194  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

like  sneezing,  or  any  thing? — Connie's  awfully 
naughty,  papa.  Her  feet  were  just  oozing  water, 
and  she  sat  there  in  her  wet  shoes  and  stockings, 
just  like  a  stupid  child. — Aren't  you  going  to  eat 
any  supper,  Carol?  Are  you  sick?  What  is  the 
matter?  Does  your  head  still  ache?" 

"Oh,  it  doesn't  ache  exactly,  but  I  do  not  feel 
hungry.  No,  I  am  not  sick,  Prudence,  so  don't 
stew  about  it.  I'm  just  not  hungry.  The  meat  is 
too  greasy,  and  the  potatoes  are  lumpy.  I  think 
I'll  take  a  cinnamon  roll."  But  she  only  picked  it 
to  pieces  idly.  Prudence  watched  her  with  the  in- 
tense suspicious  gaze  of  a  frightened  mother  bird. 

"There  are  some  canned  oysters  out  there,  Carol. 
If  I  make  you  some  soup,  will  you  eat  it?" 

This  was  a  great  concession,  for  the  canned  oy- 
sters were  kept  in  anticipation  of  unexpected  com- 
pany. But  Carol  shook  her  head  impatiently.  "I 
am  not  hungry  at  all,"  she  said. 

"I'll  open  some  pineapple,  or  those  beautiful 
pickled  peaches  Mrs.  Adams  gave  us,  or — or  any- 
thing, if  you'll  just  eat  something,  Carrie." 

Still  Carol  shook  her  head.  "I  said  I  wasn't 
hungry,  Prudence."  But  her  face  was  growing 
yery  red,  and  her  eyes  were  strangely  bright.  She 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  195 

moved  her  hands  with  unnatural  restless  motions, 
and  frequently  lifted  her  shoulders  in  a  peculiar 
manner. 

"Do  your  shoulders  hurt,  Carol?"  asked  her 
father,  who  was  also  watching  her  anxiously. 

"Oh,  it  feels  kind  of — well — tight,  I  guess,  in  my 
chest.  But  it  doesn't  hurt.  It  hurts  a  little  when 
I  breathe  deep." 

"Is  your  throat  still  sore,  Carol  ?"  inquired  Larlc. 
"Don't  you  remember  saying  you  couldn't  swallow 
when  we  were  coming  home  from  school?" 

"It  isn't  sore  now,"  said  Carol.  And  as  though 
intolerant  of  further  questioning,  she  left  the  din* 
ing-room  quickly. 

"Shall  I  put  flannel  on  her  chest  and  throat, 
father?"  asked  Prudence  nervously. 

"Yes,  and  if  she  gets  worse  we  will  call  the  doc- 
tor. It's  probably  just  a  cold,  but  we  must " 

"It  isn't  diphtheria,  papa,  you  know  that,"  cried 
Prudence  passionately. 

For  there  were  four  reported  cases  of  that  dread 
disease  in  Mount  Mark. 

But  the  pain  in  Carol's  chest  did  grow  worse,  and 
she  became  so  feverish  that  she  began  talking  in 
quick  broken  sentences. 


196  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"It  was  too  hot! — Don't  go  away,  Larkie! — • 
Her  feet  were  wet,  and  it  kept  squshing  out. — I 
guess  I'm  kind  of  sick,  Prue. — Don't  put  that 
thing  on  my  head,  it  is  strangling  me! — Oh,  I 
can't  get  my  breath!"  And  she  flung  her  hand  out 
sharply,  as  though  to  push  something  away  from 
her  face. 

Then  Mr.  Starr  went  to  the  telephone  and  hur- 
riedly called  the  doctor.  Prudence  meanwhile  had 
undressed  Carol,  and  put  on  her  little  pink  flannel 
nightgown. 

"Go  out  in  the  kitchen,  girls,  and  shut  the  door," 
she  said  to  her  sisters,  who  stood  close  around  the 
precious  twin,  so  suddenly  stricken.  "Fairy!"  she 
cried.  "Go  at  once.  It  may  be  catching.  Take 
the  others  with  you.  And  keep  the  door  shut." 

But  Lark  flung  herself  on  her  knees  beside  her 
twin,  and  burst  into  choking  sobs.  "I  won't  go," 
she  cried.  "I  won't  leave  Carrie.  I  will  not,  Pru- 
dence!" 

"Oh,  it  is  too  hot,"  moaned  Carol.  "Oh,  give 
me  a  drink!  Give  me  some  snow,  Prudence.  Oh, 
it  hurts!"  And  she  pressed  her  burning  hands 
against  her  chest. 

"Lark,"  said  her  father,  stepping  quickly  to  her 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  197 

side,  "go  out  to  the  kitchen  at  once.  Do  you  want 
to  make  Carrie  worse?"  And  Lark,  cowed  and 
quivering,  rushed  into  the  kitchen  and  closed  the 
door. 

"I'll  carry  her  up-stairs  to  bed,  Prue,"  said  her 
father,  striving  to  render  his  voice  natural  for  the 
sake  of  the  suffering  oldest  daughter,  whose  tense 
white  face  was  frightening. 

Together  they  carried  the  child  up  the  stairs. 
"Put  her  in  our  bed,"  said  Prudence.  "I'll— I'll—- 
if it's  diphtheria,  daddy,  she  and  I  will  stay  up- 
stairs here,  and  the  rest  of  you  must  stay  down. 
You  can  bring  our  food  up  to  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
and  I'll  come  out  and  get  it.  They  can't  take  Carol 
away  from  the  parsonage." 

"We  will  get  a  nurse,  Prudence.  We  couldn't 
let  you  run  a  risk  like  that.  It  would  not  be  right. 
If  I  could  take  care  of  her  properly  myself,  I " 

"You  couldn't,  father,  and  it  would  be  wicked 
for  you  to  take  such  chances.  What  would  the — 
others  do  without  you?  But  it  would  not  make 
any  difference  about  me.  I'm  not  important.  He 
can  give  me  anti-toxin,  and  I'm  such  a  healthy  girl 
there  will  be  no  danger.  But  she  must  not  be  shut 
alone  with  a  nurse.  She  would  die!" 


198  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

And  Carol  took  up  the  words,  screaming,  "I  will 
die !  I  will  die !  Don't  leave  me,  Prudence.  Don't 
shut  me  up  alone.  Prudence!  Prudence!" 

Down-stairs  in  the  kitchen,  three  frightened  girls 
clung  to  one  another,  crying  bitterly  as  they  heard 
poor  Carol's  piercing  screams. 

"It  is  pneumonia,"  said  the  doctor,  after  an  ex- 
amination. And  he  looked  at  Prudence  critically. 
"I  think  we  must  have  a  nurse  for  a  few  days.  It 
may  be  a  little  severe,  and  you  are  not  quite  strong 
enough."  Then,  as  Prudence  remonstrated,  "Oh, 
yes,"  he  granted,  "you  shall  stay  with  her,  but  if 
it  is  very  serious  a  nurse  will  be  of  great  service. 
I  will  have  one  come  at  once."  Then  he  paused, 
and  listened  to  the  indistinct  sobbing  that  floated  up 
from  the  kitchen.  "Can't  you  send  those  girls  away 
for  the  night, — to  some  of  the  neighbors?  It  will 
be  much  better." 

But  this  the  younger  girls  stubbornly  refused  to 
do.  "If  you  send  me  out  of  the  house  when  Carol 
is  sick,  I  will  kill  myself,"  said  Lark,  in  such  a 
strange  voice  that  the  doctor  eyed  her  sharply. 

"Well,  if  you  will  all  stay  down-stairs  and  keep 
quiet,  so  as  not  to  annoy  your  sister,"  he  consented 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  199 

grudgingly.  "The  least  sobbing,  or  confusion,  or 
excitement,  may  make  her  much  worse.  Fix 
up  a  bed  on  the  floor  down  here,  all  of  you,  and 
go  to  sleep." 

"I  won't  go  to  bed,"  said  Lark,  looking  up  at  the 
doctor  with  agonized  eyes.  "I  won't  go  to  bed 
while  Carol  is  sick." 

"Give  her  a  cup  of  something  hot  to  drink,"  he 
said  to  Fairy  curtly. 

"I  won't  drink  anything,"  said  Lark.  "I  won't 
drink  anything,  and  I  won't  eat  a  bite  of  anything 
until  Carol  is  well.  I  won't  sleep,  either." 

The  doctor  took  her  hand  in  his,  and  deftly 
pushed  the  sleeve  above  the  elbow. 

"You  can  twist  my  arm  if  you  like,  but  I  won't 
eat,  and  I  won't  drink,  and  I  won't  sleep." 

The  doctor  smiled.  Swiftly  inserting  the  point 
of  his  needle  in  her  arm,  he  released  her.  "I  won't 
hurt  you,  but  I  am  pretty  sure  you  will  be  sleeping 
in  a  few  minutes."  He  turned  to  Fairy.  "Get  her 
ready  for  bed  at  once.  The  little  one  can  wait." 

An  hour  later,  he  came  down-stairs  again.  "Is 
she  sleeping?"  he  asked  of  Fairy  in  a  low  voice. 
"That  is  good.  You  have  your  work  cut  out  for 


200     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

you,  my  girl.  The  little  one  here  will  be  all  right, 
but  this  twin  is  in  nearly  as  bad  shape  as  the  one 
up-stairs." 

"Oh!    Doctor!    Larkie,  too!" 

"Oh,  she  is  not  sick.  But  she  is  too  intense.  She 
is  taking  this  too  hard.  Her  system  is  not  well 
enough  developed  to  stand  such  a  strain  very  long. 
Something  would  give  way, — maybe  her  brain.  She 
must  be  watched.  She  must  eat  and  sleep.  There 
is  school  to-morrow,  isn't  there?" 

"But  I  am  sure  Lark  will  not  go,  Doctor.  She 
has  never  been  to  school  a  day  in  her  life  without 
Carol.  I  am  sure  she  will  not  go!" 

"Let  her  stay  at  home,  then.  Don't  get  her  ex- 
cited. But  make  her  work.  Keep  her  doing  little 
tasks  about  the  house,  and  send  her  on  errands. 
Talk  to  her  a  good  deal.  Prudence  will  have  her 
hands  full  with  the  other  twin,  and  you'll  have  all 
you  can  do  with  this  one.  I'm  depending  on  you, 
my  girl.  You  mustn't  fail  me." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  an  anxious  week.  For 
two  days  Carol  was  in  delirium  most  of  the  time, 
calling  out,  crying,  screaming  affrightedly.  And 
Lark  crouched  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  hands 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  201 

clenched  passionately,  her  slender  form  tense  and 
motionless. 

It  was  four  in  the  afternoon,  as  the  doctor  was 
coming  down  from  the  sick  room,  that  Fairy  called 
him  into  the  dining-room  with  a  suggestive  glance. 

"She  won't  eat,"  she  said.  "I  have  done  every- 
thing possible,  and  I  had  the  nurse  try.  But  she 
will  not  eat  a  bite.  I — I'm  sorry,  Doctor,  but  I 
can't  make  her." 

"What  has  she  been  doing?" 

"She's  been  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  all  day.  She 
won't  do  a  thing  I  tell  her.  She  won't  mind  the 
nurse.  Father  told  her  to  keep  away,  too,  but  she 
does  not  pay  any  attention.  When  I  speak  to  her, 
she  does  not  answer.  When  she  hears  you  coming 
down,  she  runs  away  and  hides,  but  she  goes  right 
back  again." 

"Can  your  father  make  her  eat  ?  If  he  commands 
her?" 

"I  do  not  know.  I  doubt  it.  But  we  can  try. 
Here's  some  hot  soup, — I'll  call  father." 

So  Lark  was  brought  into  the  dining-room,  and 
her  father  came  down  the  stairs.  The  doctor  whis- 
pered an  explanation  to  him  in  the  hall. 


202  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Lark,"  said  her  father,  gently  but  very  firmly, 
"you  must  eat,  or  you  will  be  sick,  too.  We  need 
all  of  our  time  to  look  after  Carol  to-day.  Do  you 
want  to  keep  us  away  from  her  to  attend  to  you?" 

"No,  father,  of  course  not.  I  wish  you  would 
all  go  right  straight  back  to  Carrie  this  minute  and 
leave  me  alone.  I'm  all  right  But  I  can't  eat  until 
Carol  is  well." 

Her  father  drew,  a  chair  to  the  table  and  said, 
"Sit  down  and  eat  that  soup  at  once,  Larkie." 

Lark's  face  quivered,  but  she  turned  away.  "I 
can't,  father.  You  don't  understand.  I  can't  eat, — 
I  really  can't.  Carrie's  my  twin,  and — oh,  father, 
don't  you  see  how  it  is?" 

He  stood  for  a  moment,  frowning  at  her  thought- 
fully. Then  he  left  the  room,  signing  for  the  doc- 
tor to  follow.  "I'll  send  Prudence  down,"  he  said, 
"She'll  manage  some  way." 

"I  must  stay  here  until  I  see  her  eat  it,"  said 
the  doctor.  "If  she  won't  do  it,  she  must  be  kept 
under  morphine  for  a  few  days.  But  it's  better 
not.  Try  Prudence,  by  all  means." 

So  Prudence,  white-faced,  eyes  black-circled, 
came  down  from  the  room  where  she  had  served 
her  sister  many  weary  hours.  The  doctor  was 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  203 

standing  in  the  center  of  the  room.  Fairy  was 
hovering  anxiously  near  Lark,  rigid  at  the  window. 

"Larkie,"  whispered  Prudence,  and  with  a  bitter 
try  the  young  girl  leaped  into  her  sister's  arms. 

Prudence  caressed  and  soothed  her  tenderly. 
"Poor  little  Larkie,"  she  murmured,  "poor  little 
twinnie! —  But  Carol  is  resting  pretty  well  now, 
Lark.  She's  coming  through  all  right.  She  was 
conscious  several  times  to-day.  The  first  time  she 
just  looked  up  at  me  and  smiled  and  whispered, 
'Hard  luck,  Prue/  Then  a  little  later  she  said, 
'Tell  Larkie  I'm  doing  fine,  and  don't  let  her  worry.' 
Pretty  soon  she  spoke  again,  'You  make  Lark  be 
sensible,  Prue,  or  she'll  be  sick,  too.'  Once  again 
she  started  to  say  something  about  you,  but  she 
was  too  sick  to  finish.  'Larkie  is  such  a — ,'  but  that 
was  as  far  as  she  could  go.  She  was  thinking  of 
you  all  the  time,  Lark.  She  is  so  afraid  you'll 
worry  and  make  yourself  sick,  too.  She  would  be 
heartbroken  if  she  was  able  to  see  you,  and  you  were 
too  sick  to  come  to  her.  You  must  keep  up  your 
strength  for  Carol's  sake.  If  she  is  conscious  to- 
morrow, we're  going  to  bring  you  up  a  while  to  see 
her.  She  can  hardly  stand  being  away  from  you,  I 
know.  But  you  must  get  out-of-doors,  and  bring 


204     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

some  color  to  your  cheeks,  first.  It  would  make 
her  miserable  to  see  you  like  this." 

Lark  was  still  sobbing,  but  more  gently  now,  and 
she  still  clung  to  her  sister. 

"To-morrow,  Prudence?  Honestly,  may  I  go  up 
to-morrow?  You're  not  just  fooling  me,  are  you? 
You  wouldn't  do  that !" 

"Of  course  I  wouldn't.  Yes,  you  really  may,  if 
you'll  be  good  and  make  yourself  look  better.  It 
would  be  very  bad  for  Carrie  to  see  you  so  white 
and  wan.  She  would  worry.  Have  you  been  eat- 
ing? You  must  eat  lots,  and  then  take  a  good  run 
out-of-doors  toward  bedtime,  so  you  will  sleep  well. 
It  will  be  a  good  tonic  for  Carol  to  see  you  bright 
and  fresh  and  rosy." 

"Oh,  I  can't  bear  to  be  fresh  and  rosy  when  Car- 
rie  is  sick!" 

"It  hurts, — but  you  are  willing  to  be  hurt  for 
Carol's  sake!  You  will  do  it  on  her  account  If 
'  will  do  her  so  much  good.  Now  sit  down  and  ea( 
your  soup,  and  I'll  stay  here  a  while  and  tell  you 
all  about  her.  I  gave  her  the  pansies  you  bought 
her, — it  was  so  sweet  of  you,  too,  Larkie.  It  must. 
have  taken  every  cent  of  your  money,  didn't  it?  I 
suppose  you  ordered  them  over  the  telephone,  since 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  205 

you  wouldn't  leave  the  house.  When  I  told  Carol 
you  got  them  for  her,  she  took  them  in  her  hand 
and  held  them  under  the  covers.  Of  course,  they 
wilted  right  away,  but  I  knew  you  would  like  Carrie 
to  have  them  close  to  her. — Oh,  you  must  cat  it 
all,  Lark.  It  looks  very  good.  I  must  take  a  little 
of  it  up  to  Carol, — maybe  she  can  eat  some. — 
And  you  will  do  your  very  best  to  be  strong  and 
bright  and  rosy — for  Carol — won't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  will, — I'll  go  and  run  across  the  field  a 
few  times  before  I  go  to  bed.  Yes,  I'll  try  my  very 
best."  Then  she  looked  up  at  the  doctor,  and  added : 
"But  I  wouldn't  do  it  for  you,  or  anybody  else, 
either." 

But  the  doctor  only  smiled  oddly,  and  went  away 
up-stairs  again,  wondering  at  the  wisdom  that  God 
has  placed  in  the  hearts  of  women! 

Dreary  miserable  days  and  nights  followed  after 
that.  And  Prudence,  to  whom  Carol,  even  in  de- 
lirium, clung  with  such  wildness  that  they  dare  not 
deny  her,  grew  weary-eyed  and  wan.  But  when 
the  doctor,  putting  his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  said, 
"It's  all  right  now,  my  dear.  She'll  soon  be  as  well 
as  ever," — then  Prudence  dropped  limply  to  the 
floor,  trembling  weakly  with  the  great  happiness. 


206     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Good  Methodist  friends  from  all  over  Mount 
Mark  came  to  the  assistance  of  the  parsonage  fam- 
ily, and  many  gifts  and  delicacies  and  knick-knacks 
were  sent  in  to  tempt  the  appetite  of  the  invalid, 
and  the  others  as  well. 

"You  all  need  toning  up,"  said  Mrs.  Adams 
crossly,  "you've  all  gone  clear  under.  A  body 
would  think  the  whole  family  had  been  down  with 
something !" 

Carol's  friends  at  the  high  school,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  faculty  also,  took  advantage  of  this 
opportunity  to  show  their  love  for  her.  And 
Professor  Duke  sent  clear  to  Burlington  for  a  great 
basket  of  violets  and  lilies-of -the- valley,  "For  our 
little  high-school  song-bird,"  as  he  wrote  on  the 
card.  And  Carol  dimpled  with  delight  as  she 
read  it. 

"Now  you  see  for  yourself,  Prudence,"  she  de- 
clared. "Isn't  he  a  duck?" 

When  the  little  parsonage  group,  entire,  gathered 
once  more  around  the  table  in  the  "real  dining- 
room,"  they  were  joyful  indeed.  It  was  a  gala  oc- 
casion! The  very  best  china  and  silverware  were 
brought  out  in  Carol's  honor.  The  supper  was  one 


THE  FIRST  DARK  SHADOW  207 

that  would  have  gratified  the  heart  of  a  bishop,  at 
the  very  least ! 

"Apple  pie,  with  pure  cream,  Carol,"  said  Lark 
ecstatically,  for  apple  pie  with  pure  cream  was  the 
favorite  dessert  of  the  sweet-toothed  twins.  And 
Lark  added  earnestly,  "And  I  don't  seem  to  be  very 
hungry  to-night,  Carol, — I  don't  want  any  pie.  You 
shall  have  my  piece,  too !" 

"I  said  I  felt  it  in  my  bones,  you  remember," 
said  Prudence,  smiling  at  Carol,  "but  my  mental 
compass  indicated  Connie  when  it  should  have 
pointed  to  Carol !  And  I  do  hope,  Connie  dear,  that 
this  will  be  a  lesson  to  you,  and  impress  upon  you 
that  you  must  always  change  your  shoes  and  stock- 
ings when  your  feet  are  wet!" 

And  for  the  first  time  in  many  days,  clear,  happy- 
hearted  laughter  rang  out  in  the  parsonage. 


CHAPTER  IX 

PRACTISING  ECONOMY 

IT  was  a  dull  dreary  day  early  in  December.  Pru- 
dence and  Fairy  were  sewing  in  the  bay  window 
of  the  sitting-room. 

"We  must  be  sure  to  have  all  the  scraps  out  of 
the  way  before  Connie  gets  home,"  said  Prudence, 
carefully  fitting  together  pieces  of  a  dark,  warm, 
furry  material.  "It  has  been  so  long  since  father 
wore  this  coat,  I  am  sure  she  will  not  recognize  it." 

"But  she  will  ask  where  we  got  it,  and  what  shall 
we  say?" 

"We  must  tell  her  it  is  goods  we  have  had  in 
the  house  for  a  long  time.  That  is  true.  And 
I  made  this  fudge  on  purpose  to  distract  her 
attention.  If  she  begins  to  ask  questions,  we  must 
urge  her  to  have  more  candy.  Poor  child!"  she 
added  very  sympathetically.  "Her  heart  is  just  set 
on  a  brand-new  coat.  I  know  she  will  be  bitterly 
disappointed.  If  the  members  would  just  pay  up 
we  could  get  her  one.  November  and  December  are 
208 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  209 

such  bad  months  for  parsonage  people.  Coal  to 
buy,  feed  for  the  cow  and  the  horse  and  the  chick- 
ens, and  Carol's  sickness,  and  Larkie's  teeth!  Of 
course,  those  last  are  not  regular  winter  expenses, 
but  they  took  a  lot  of  money  this  year.  Every  one 
is  getting  ready  for  Christmas  now,  and  forgets  that 
parsonage  people  need  Christmas  money,  too.  No- 
vember and  December  are  always  my  bitter  months, 
Fairy, — bitter  months !" 

Fairy  took  a  pin  from  her  mouth.  "The  velvet 
collar  and  cuffs  will  brighten  it  up  a  good  bit.  It's 
really  a  pretty  material.  I  have  honestly  been 
ashamed  of  Connie  the  last  few  Sundays.  It  was 
so  cold,  and  she  wore  only  that  little  thin  summer 
jacket.  She  must  have  been  half  frozen." 

"Oh,  I  had  her  dressed  warmly  underneath,  very 
warmly  indeed,"  declared  Prudence.  "But  no  mat- 
ter how  warm  you  are  underneath,  you  look  cold  if 
you  aren't  visibly  prepared  for  winter  weather.  It's 
a  fortunate  thing  the  real  cold  weather  was  so  slow 
in  coming.  I  kept  hoping  enough  money  would 
come  in  to  buy  her  a  coat  for  once  in  her  life." 

"She  has  been  looking  forward  to  one  long 
enough,"  put  in  Fairy.  "This  will  be  a  bitter  blow 
to  her.  And  yet  it  is  not  such  a  bad-looking  coat, 


210  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

after  all."  And  she  quickly  .ran  up  a  seam  on  the 
machine. 

"Here  comes  Connie!"  Prudence  hastily  swept 
a  pile  of  scraps  out  of  sight,  and  turned  to  greet 
her  little  sister  with  a  cheery  smile. 

"Come  on  in,  Connie,"  she  cried,  with  a  bright- 
ness she  did  not  feel.  "Fairy  and  I  are  making  you 
a  new  coat.  Isn't  it  pretty?  And  so  warm!  See 
the  nice  velvet  collar  and  cuffs.  We  want  to  fit  it 
on  you  right  away,  dear." 

Connie  picked  up  a  piece  of  the  goods  and  exam- 
ined it  intently. 

"Don't  you  want  some  fudge,  Connie?"  ex- 
claimed Fairy,  shoving  the  dish  toward  her  hur- 
riedly. 

Connie  took  a  piece  from  the  plate,  and  thrust  it 
between  her  teeth.  Her  eyes  were  still  fastened 
upon  the  brown  furry  cloth. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  stuff?"  she  inquired,  as 
soon  as  she  was  able  to  speak. 

"Oh,  we've  had  it  in  the  house  quite  a  while," 
said  Prudence,  adding  swiftly,  "Isn't  it  warm,  Con- 
nie? Oh,  it  does  look  nice,  doesn't  it,  Fairy?  Do 
you  want  it  a  little  shorter,  Connie,  or  is  that  about 
right?" 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  211 

"About  right,  I  guess.  Did  you  ever  have  a  coat 
like  this,  Prudence?  I  don't  seem  to  remember  it.'* 

"Oh,  no,  it  wasn't  mine.  Take  some  more  candy, 
Connie.  Isn't  it  good? — Let's  put  a  little  more 
fullness  in  the  sleeves,  Fairy.  It's  more  stylish  this 
year. — The  collar  fits  very  nicely.  The  velvet 
gives  it  such  a  rich  tone.  And  brown  is  so  becom- 
ing to  you." 

"Thanks,"  said  Connie  patiently.  "Was  this 
something  of  yours,  Fairy?" 

"Oh,  no,  we've  just  had  it  in  the  house  quite  a 
while.  It  comes  in  very  handy  right  now,  doesn't 
it?  It'll  make  you  such  a  serviceable,  stylish  coat. 
Isn't  it  about  time  for  the  twins  to  get  here,  Pru- 
dence ?  I'm  afraid  they  are  playing  along  the  road. 
Those  girls  get  more  careless  every  day  of  their 
lives." 

"Well,  if  this  didn't  belong  to  one  of  you,  whose 
was  it?"  demanded  Connie.  "I  know  the  twins 
never  had  anything  like  this.  It  looks  kind  of  fa- 
miliar to  me.  Where  did  it  come  from?" 

"Out  of  the  trunk  in  the  garret,  Connie.  Don't 
you  want  some  more  fudge  ?  I  put  a  lot  of  nuts  in, 
especially  on  your  account." 

"It's  good,"  said  Connie,  taking  another  piece. 


212     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

She  examined  the  cloth  very  closely.  "Say,  Pru- 
dence, isn't  this  that  old  brown  coat  of  father's  ?" 

Fairy  shoved  her  chair  back  from  the  machine, 
and  ran  to  the  window.  "Look,  Prue,"  she  cried. 
"Isn't  that  Mrs.  Adams  coming  this  way  ?  I  worv 
der " 

"No,  it  isn't,"  answered  Connie  gravely.  "It's 
just  Miss  Avery  getting  home  from  school. — Isn't 
it,  Prudence?  Father's  coat,  I  mean?" 

"Yes,  Connie,  it  is,"  said  Prudence,  very,  very 
gently.  "But  no  one  here  has  seen  it,  and  it  is  such 
nice  cloth, — just  exactly  what  girls  are  wearing 
now." 

"But  I  wanted  a  new  coat !"  Connie  did  not  cry. 
She  stood  looking  at  Prudence  with  her  wide  hurt 
eyes. 

"Oh,  Connie,  I'm  just  as  sorry  as  you  are,"  cried 
Prudence,  with  starting  tears.  "I  know  just  how 
you  feel  about  it,  dearest.  But  the  people  didn't 
pay  father  up  last  month,  and  nothing  has  come 
in  for  this  month  yet,  and  we've  had  so  much  ex- 
tra expense. — I  will  have  to  wear  my  old  shoes, 
too,  Connie,  and  you  know  how  they  look!  The 
shoemaker  says  they  aren't  worth  fixing,  so  I  must 
wear  them  as  they  are.— But  maybe  after  Christ- 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  213 

mas  we  can  get  you  a  coat.  They  pay  up  better 
then." 

"I  think  I'd  rather  wear  my  summer  coat  until 
then,"  said  Connie  soberly. 

"Oh,  but  you  can't,  dearest.  It  is  too  cold. 
Won't  you  be  a  good  girl  now,  and  not  make  sister 
feel  badly  about  it?  It  really  is  becoming  to  you, 
and  it  is  nice  and  warm.  You  know  parsonage 
people  just  have  to  practise  economy,  Connie,— it 
can't  be  helped.  Take  some  more  fudge,  dear,  and 
run  out-of-doors  a  while.  You'll  feel  better  about 
it  presently,  I'm  sure." 

Connie  stood  solemnly  beside  the  table,  her  eyes 
still  fastened  on  the  coat,  cut  down  from  her 
father's.  "Can  I  go  and  take  a  walk?"  she  asked 
finally. 

"May  I,  you  mean,"  suggested  Fairy. 

"Yes,  may  I?  Maybe  I  can  reconcile  myself 
to  it." 

"Yes,  do  go  and  take  a  walk,"  urged  Prudence 
promptly,  eager  to  get  the  small  sober  face  beyond 
her  range  of  vision. 

"If  I  am  not  back  when  the  twins  get  home,  go 
right  on  and  eat  without  me.  I'll  come  back  when 
I  get  things  straightened  out  in  my  mind." 


214  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

When  Connie  was  quite  beyond  hearing,  Pru- 
dence dropped  her  head  on  the  table  and  wept.  "Oh, 
Fairy,  if  the  members  just  knew  how  such  things 
hurt,  maybe  they'd  pay  up  a  little  better.  How  do 
they  expect  parsonage  people  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances when  they  haven't  any  money?" 

"Oh,  now,  Prue,  you're  worse  than  Connie! 
There's  no  use  to  cry  about  it.  Parsonage  people 
have  to  find  happiness  in  spite  of  financial  misery. 
Money  isn't  the  first  thing  with  folks  like  us." 

"No,  but  they  have  pledged  it,"  protested  Pru- 
dence, lifting  her  tear-stained  face.  "They  must 
know  we  are  counting  on  the  money.  Why  don't 
they  keep  their  pledges  ?  They  pay  their  meat  bills, 
and  grocery  bills,  and  house  rent !  Why  don't  they 
pay  for  their  religion?" 

"Now,  Prue,  you  know  how  things  go.  Mrs. 
Adams  is  having  a  lot  of  Christmas  expense,  and 
she  thinks  her  four  dollars  a  month  won't  really  be 
missed.  She  thinks  she  will  make  it  up  along  in 
February,  when  Christmas  is  over.  But  she  forgets 
that  Mrs.  Barnaby  with  two  dollars,  and  Mrs.  Scott 
with  five,  and  Mr.  Walter  with  seven,  and  Mr. 
Holmes  with  three,  and  about  thirty  others  with  one 
dollar  each,  are  thinking  the  same  thing!  Each 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  215 

member  thinks  for  himself,  and  takes  no  account 
of  the  others.  That's  how  it  happens." 

Prudence  squirmed  uncomfortably  in  her  chair. 
"I  wish  you  wouldn't  mention  names,  Fairy,"  she 
begged.  "I  do  not  object  to  lumping  them  in  a 
body  and  wondering  about  them.  But  I  can't  feel 
right  about  calling  them  out  by  name,  and  criticiz- 
ing them. — Besides,  we  do  not  really  know  which 
ones  they  are  who  did  not  pay." 

"I  was  just  giving  names  for  illustrative  pur- 
poses," said  Fairy  quickly.  "Like  as  not,  the  very 
ones  I  named  are  the  ones  who  did  pay." 

"Well,  get  this  stuff  out  of  the  way,  and  let's 
set  the  table.  Somehow  I  can't  bear  to  touch  it  any 
more.  Poor  little  Connie!  If  she  had  cried  about 
it,  I  wouldn't  have  cared  so  much.  But  she  looked 
so — heartsick,  didn't  she,  Fairy?" 

Connie  certainly  was  heartsick.  More  than  that, 
she  was  a  little  disgusted.  She  felt  herself  aroused 
to  take  action.  Things  had  gone  too  far!  Go  to 
church  in  her  father's  coat  she  could  not !  But  they 
hadn't  the  money.  If  Connie's  father  had  been  at 
home,  perhaps  they  might  have  reasoned  it  out  to- 
gether. But  he  had  left  town  that  morning,  and 
would  not  be  home  until  Saturday  evening, — too 


216  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

late  to  get  a  coat  in  time  for  Sunday,  and  Prudence 
had  said  that  Connie  must  be  coated  by  Sunday! 
She  walked  sturdily  down  the  street  toward  the 
"city," — ironically  so  called.  Her  face  was  stony, 
her  hands  were  clenched.  But  finally  she  bright- 
ened. Her  lagging  steps  quickened.  She  skipped 
along  quite  cheerfully.  She  turned  westward  as  she 
reached  the  corner  of  the  Square,  and  walked  along 
that  business  street  with  shining  eyes.  In  front  of 
the  First  National  Bank  she  paused,  but  after  a  few 
seconds  she  passed  by.  On  the  opposite  corner  was 
another  bank.  When  she  reached  it,  she  walked  in 
without  pausing,  and  the  massive  door  swung  be- 
hind her.  Standing  on  tiptoe,  she  confronted  the 
cashier  with  a  grave  face. 

"Is  Mr.  Harold  in  ?"  she  asked  politely. 

Mr.  Harold  was  the  president  of  the  bank!  It 
was  a  little  unusual. 

"Yes,  he  is  in,"  said  the  cashier  doubtfully,  "but 
(he  is  very  busy." 

"Will  you  tell  him  that  Constance  Starr  wishes 
to  speak  to  him,  privately,  and  that  it  is  very  im- 
portant?" 

The  cashier  smiled.  "The  Methodist  minister's 
little  girl,  isn't  it?  Yes,  I  will  tell  him," 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  217 

Mr.  Harold  looked  up  impatiently  at  the  inter- 
ruption. 

"It's  the  Methodist  minister's  little  daughter,  and 
she  says  it  is  important  for  her  to  speak  to  you  pri 
vately." 

"Oh!  Probably  a,  message  from  her  father. 
Bring  her  in." 

Mr.  Harold  was  one  of  the  trustees  of  the  Meth- 
odist church,  and  prominent  among  them.  His 
keen  eyes  were  intent  upon  Connie  as  she  walked 
in,  but  she  did  not  falter. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Harold?"  she  said,  and 
shook  hands  with  him  in  the  good  old  Methodist 
way. 

His  eyes  twinkled,  but  he  spoke  briskly.  "Did 
your  father  send  you  on  an  errand?" 

"No,  father  is  out  of  town.  I  came  on  busi- 
ness,— personal  business,  Mr.  Harold.  It  is  ray 
own  affair." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  and  he  smiled  at  the  earnest  little 
face.  "Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you,  Miss  Con- 
stance ?" 

"I  want  to  borrow  five  dollars  from  the  bank, 
Mr.  Harold?" 

"You — did  Prudence  send  you  ?" 


218  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  no,  it  is  my  own  affair  as  I  told  you.  I 
came  on  my  own  account.  I  thought  of  stopping 
at  the  other  bank  as  I  passed,  but  then  I  remem- 
bered that  parsonage  people  must  always  do  busi- 
ness with  their  own  members  if  possible.  And  of 
course,  I  would  rather  come  to  you  than  to  a  perfect 
stranger." 

"Thank  you, — thank  you  very  much.  Five  dol- 
lars you  say  you  want?" 

"I  suppose  I  had  better  tell  you  all  about  it.  You 
see,  I  need  a  winter  coat,  very  badly.  Oh,  very 
badly,  indeed !  The  girls  were  ashamed  of  me  last 
Sunday,  I  looked  so  cold  outside,  though  I  was 
dressed  plenty  warm  enough  inside.  I've  been  look- 
ing forward  to  a  new  coat,  Mr.  Harold.  I've  never 
had  one  yet.  There  was  always  something  to  cut 
down  for  me,  from  Prudence,  or  Fairy,  or  the 
twins.  But  this  time  there  wasn't  anything  to  hand 
down,  and  so  I  just  naturally  counted  on  a  new 
one."  Connie  paused,  and  looked  embarrassed. 

"Yes?"    His  voice  was  encouraging. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  the  rest,  but  I  hope  you  won't 
say  anything  about  it,  for  I'd  feel  pretty  cheap  if  I 
thought  all  the  Sunday-school  folks  knew  about  it. 
—You  see,  the  members  need  such  a  lot  of  money 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  219 

now  just  before  Christmas,  and  so  they  didn't  pay 
us  up  last  month,  and  they  haven't  paid  anything 
this  month.  And  we  had  to  get  coal,  and  feed,  and 
Larkie's  teeth  had  to  be  fixed,  and  Carol  was  sick, 
you  remember.  Seems  to  me  Lark's  teeth  might 
have  been  put  off  until  after  Christmas,  but  Pru- 
dence says  not. — And  so  there  isn't  any  money  left, 
and  I  can't  have  a  coat.  But  Prudence  and  Fairy 
are  making  me  one, — out  of  an  old  coat  of 
father's!" 

Constance  paused  dramatically.  Mr.  Harold 
never  even  smiled.  He  just  nodded  understand- 
ingly.  "I  don't  think  I  could  wear  a  coat  of 
father's  to  church, — it's  cut  down  of  course,  but — • 
there's  something  painful  about  the  idea.  I  wouldn't 
expect  father  to  wear  any  of  my  clothes !  ,You  can 
see  how  it  is,  Mr.  Harold.  Just  imagine  how  you 
would  feel  wearing  your  wife's  coat! — I  don't  think 
I  could  listen  to  the  sermons.  I  don't  believe  I  could 
be  thankful  for  the  mercy  of  wearing  father's  coat! 
I  don't  see  anything  merciful  about  it.  Do  you?" 

Mr.  Harold  did  not  speak.  He  gazed  at  Connie 
sympathetically,  and  shook  his  head. 

"It's  too  much,  that's  what  it  is.  And  so  I  thought 
I'd  just  have  to  take  things  into  my  own  hands  and 


220  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

borrow  the  money.  I  can  get  a  good  coat  for  five 
dollars.  But  if  the  bank  is  a  little  short  right  now,  1 
can  get  along  with  four,  or  even  three.  I'd  rather 
have  the  cheapest  coat  in  town,  than  one  made  out 
of  father's.  Do  you  think  you  can  let  me  have  it?" 

"Yes,  indeed  we  can."  He  seemed  to  find  his 
voice  with  an  effort.  "Of  course  we  can.  We  arc 
very  glad  to  lend  our  money  to  responsible  people. 
We  are  proud  to  have  your  trade." 

"But  I  must  tell  you,  that  it  may  take  me  quite 
a  while  to  pay  it  back.  Father  gives  me  a  nickel  a 
week,  and  I  generally  spend  it  for  candy.  There's 
another  nickel,  but  it  has  to  go  in  the  collection,  so 
I  can't  really  count  that.  I  don't  believe  father 
would  let  me  neglect  the  heathen,  even  to  pay  for 
a  winter  coat !  But  I  will  give  you  the  nickel  every 
week,  and  at  that  rate  I  can  pay  it  back  in  a  couple 
of  years  easy  enough.  But  I'd  rather  give  the 
nickels  as  fast  as  I  get  them.  It's  so  hard  to  keep 
money  when  you  can  get  your  hand  on  it,  you  know. 
Sometimes  I  have  quite  a  lot  of  money, — as  much 
as  a  quarter  at  a  time,  from  doing  errands  for  the 
neighbors  and  things  like  that.  I'll  pay  you  as  fast 
as  I  can.  Will  that  be  all  right?  And  the  inter- 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  221 

est,  too,  of  course.  How  much  will  the  interest 
be  on  five  dollars  ?" 

"Well,  that  depends  on  how  soon  you  repay  the 
money,  Connie,  But  I'll  figure  it  out,  and  tell  you 
later." 

"All  right.  I  know  I  can  trust  you  not  to  cheat 
me,  since  you're  a  trustee.  So  I  won't  worry  about 
that." 

Mr.  Harold  drew  out  a  bulky  book  from  his 
pocket,  and  handed  Connie  a  crisp  new  bill.  Her 
eyes  sparkled  as  she  received  it. 

"But,  Connie,"  he  continued,  "I  feel  that  I  ought 
to  give  you  this.  We  Methodists  have  done  a 
wicked  thing  in  forgetting  our  November  payments, 
and  I  will  just  give  you  this  bill  to  make  up  for  it." 

But  Connie  shook  her  head  decidedly.  "Oh,  no! 
I'll  have  to  give  it  back,  then.  Father  would  not 
stand  that, — not  for  one  minute.  Of  course,  par- 
sonage people  get  things  given  to  them,  quite  a  lot. 
And  it's  a  good  thing,  too,  I  must  say!  But  we 
don't  hint  for  them,  Mr.  Harold.  That  wouldn't 
be  right"  She  held  out  the  bill  toward  him,  with 
very  manifest  reluctance. 

"Keep  it, — we'll  call  it  a  loan  then,  Connie,"  he 


222     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

said.  "And  you  may  pay  me  back,  five  cents  at  a 
time,  just  as  is  most  convenient." 

The  four  older  girls  were  at  the  table  when  Con- 
nie arrived.  She  exhaled  quiet  satisfaction  from 
every  pore.  Prudence  glanced  at  her  once,  and  then 
looked  away  again.  "She  has  reconciled  herself," 
she  thought.  Dinner  was  half  over  before  Con- 
stance burst  her  bomb.  She  had  intended  waiting 
until  they  were  quite  through,  but  it  was  more  than 
flesh  and  blood  could  keep! 

"Are  you  going  to  be  busy  this  afternoon,  Pru- 
dence?" she  asked  quietly. 

"We  are  going  to  sew  a  little,"  said  Prudence. 
"Why?" 

"I  wanted  you  to  go  down-town  with  me  after 
school." 

"Well,  perhaps  I  can  do  that.  Fairy  will  be  able 
to  finish  the  coat  alone." 

"You  needn't  finish  the  coat! — I  can't  wear 
father's  coat  to  church,  Prudence.  It's  a — it's  a — 
physical  impossibility." 

The  twins  laughed,  Fairy  smiled,  but  Prudence 
gazed  at  "the  baby"  with  tender  pity. 

"I'm  so  sorry,  dearest,  but  we  haven't  the  money 
to  buy  one  now." 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  223 

"Will  five  dollars  be  enough?"  inquired  Connie, 
and  she  placed  her  crisp  new  bill  beside  her  plate. 
The  twins  gasped !  They  gazed  at  Connie  with  nevr 
respect.  They  were  just  wishing  they  could  handle 
five-dollar  bills  so  recklessly. 

"Will  you  loan  me  twenty  dollars  until  after 
Christmas,  Connie?"  queried  Fairy. 

But  Prudence  asked,  "Where  did  you  get  this 
money,  Connie?" 

"I  borrowed  it, — from  the  bank,"  Connie  replied 
with  proper  gravity.  "I  have  two  years  to  pay  it 
back.  Mr.  Harold  says  they  are  proud  to  have  my 
trade." 

Prudence  was  silent  for  several  long  seconds. 
Then  she  inquired  in  a  low  voice,  "Did  you  tell  him 
why  you  wanted  it?" 

"Yes,  I  explained  the  whole  situation." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"He  said  he  knew  just  how  I  felt,  because  he 
knew  he  couldn't  go  to  church  in  his  wife's  coat. — 
No,  I  said  that  myself,  but  he  agreed  with  me.  He 
did  not  say  very  much,  but  he  looked  sympathetic. 
He  said  he  anticipated  great  pleasure  in  seeing  me 
in  my  new  coat  at  church  next  Sunday." 

"Go  on  with  your  luncheon,  twins,"  said  Pru- 


224     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

dence  sternly.  "You'll  be  late  to  school. — We'll  see 
about  going  down-town  when  you  get  home  to- 
night, Connie.  Now,  eat  your  luncheon,  and  don't 
talk  about  coats  any  more." 

When  Connie  had  gone  back  to  school,  Prudence 
went  straight  to  Mr.  Harold's  bank.  Flushed  and 
embarrassed,  she  explained  the  situation  frankly. 
"My  sympathies  are  all  with  Connie,"  she  said  can- 
didly. "But  I  am  afraid  father  would  not  like  it. 
We  are  dead  set  against  borrowing.  After — our 
mother  was  taken,  we  were  crowded  pretty  close  for 
money.  So  we  had  to  go  in  debt.  It  took  us  two 
years  to  get  it  paid.  Father  and  Fairy  and  I  talked 
it  over  then,  and  decided  we  would  starve  rather 
than  borrow  again.  Even  the  twins  understood  it, 
but  Connie  was  too  little.  She  doesn't  know  how 
heartbreaking  it  is  to  keep  handing  over  every  cent 
for  debt,  when  one  is  just  yearning  for  other  things. 
— I  do  wish  she  might  have  the  coat,  but  I'm  afraid 
father  would  not  like  it.  She  gave  me  the  five  dol-/ 
lars  for  safekeeping,  and  I  have  brought  it  back." 

Mr.  Harold  shook  his  head.  "No,  Connie  must 
have  her  coat.  This  will  be  a  good  lesson  for  her. 
It  will  teach  her  the  bitterness  of  living  under  debt! 
Besides,  Prudence,  I  think  in  my  heart  that  she  is 


PRACTISING  ECONOMY  225 

right  this  time.  This  is  a  case  where  borrowing  is 
justified.  Get  her  the  coat,  and  I'll  square  the  ac- 
count with  your  father."  Then  he  added,  "And  I'll 
look  after  this  salary  business  myself  after  this. 
I'll  arrange  with  the  trustees  that  I  am  to  pay  your 
father  his  full  salary  the  first  of  every  month,  and 
that  the  church  receipts  are  to  be  turned  in  to  me. 
And  if  they  do  not  pay  up,  my  lawyer  can  do  a 
little  investigating!  Little  Connie  earned  that  five 
dollars,  for  she  taught  one  trustee  a  sorry  lesson. 
And  he  will  have  to  pass  it  on  to  the  others  in  self- 
defense!  Now,  run  along  and  get  the  coat,  and  if 
five  dollars  isn't  enough  you  can  have  as  much  more 
as  you  need.  Your  father  will  get  his  salary  after 
this,  my  dear,  if  we  have  to  mortgage  the  parsoa 
•gel" 


CHAPTER  X 
A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT 


A  small  hand  gripped  Prudence's  shoulder, 
and  again  came  a  hoarsely  whispered  : 

"Pruei" 

Prudence  sat  up  in  bed  with  a  bounce. 

"What  in  the  world  ?"  she  began,  gazing  out  into 
the  room,  half-lighted  by  the  moonshine,  and  see- 
ing Carol  and  Lark  shivering  beside  her  bed. 

"Sh!  Sh!  Hush!"  whispered  Lark.  "There's 
a  burglar  in  our  room!" 

By  this  time,  even  sound-sleeping  Fairy  was 
awake.  "Oh,  there  is!"  she  scoffed. 

"Yes,  there  is,"  declared  Carol  with  some  heat. 
"We  heard  him,  plain  as  day.  He  stepped  into  the 
closet,  didn't  he,  Lark?" 

"He  certainly  did,"  agreed  Lark. 

"Did  you  see  him?" 

"No,  we  heard  him.  Carol  heard  him  first,  and 
she  spoke,  and  nudged  me.  Then  I  heard  him,  too. 
226 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  227 

He  was  at  our  dresser,  but  he  shot  across  the  room 
and  into  the  closet.  He  closed  the  door  after  him. 
He's  there  now." 

"You've  been  dreaming,"  said  Fairy,  lying  down 
again. 

"We  don't  generally  dream  the  same  thing  at  the 
same  minute,"  said  Carol  stormily.  "I  tell  you  he's 
in  there." 

"And  you  two  great  big  girls  came  off  and  left 
poor  little  Connie  in  there  alone  with  a  burglar,  did 
you?  Well,  you  are  nice  ones,  I  must  say." 

And  Prudence  leaped  out  of  bed  and  started  for 
the  door,  followed  by  Fairy,  with  the  twins  creep- 
ing fearfully  along  in  the  rear. 

"She  was  asleep,"  muttered  Carol. 

"We  didn't  want  to  scare  her,"  added  Larfc. 

Prudence  was  careful  to  turn  the  switch  by  the 
door,  so  that  the  room  was  in  full  light  before  she 
entered.  The  closet  door  was  wide  open.  Connie 
was  soundly  sleeping.  There  was  no  one  else  in 
the  room. 

"You  see?"  said  Prudence  sternly. 

"I'll  bet  he  took  our  ruby  rings,"  declared  Lark, 
and  the  twins  and  Fairy  ran  to  the  dresser  to  look. 

But  a  sickening  realization  had  come  home  to 


228     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence.  In  the  lower  hall,  under  the  staircase, 
was  a  small  dark  closet  which  they  called  the  dun- 
geon. The  dungeon  door  was  big  and  solid,  and 
was  equipped  with  a  heavy  catch-lock.  In  this  dun- 
geon, Prudence  kept  the  family  silverware,  and  all 
the  money  she  had  on  hand,  as  it  could  there  be 
safely  locked  away.  But  more  often  than  not,  Pru- 
dence forgot  to  lock  it. 

Mr.  Starr  had  gone  to  Burlington  that  morning 
to  attend  special  revival  services  for  three  days,  and 
Prudence  had  fifty  whole  dollars  in  the  house,  an 
unwonted  sum  in  that  parsonage!  And  the  dun- 
geon was  not  locked.  Without  a  word,  she  slipped 
softly  out  of  the  room,  ran  down  the  stairs,  making 
never  a  sound  in  her  bare  feet,  and  saw,  somewhat 
to  her  surprise,  that  the  dungeon  door  was  open. 
Quickly  she  flung  it  shut,  pushed  the  tiny  key  that 
moved  the  "catch,"  and  was  rushing  up  the  stairs 
again  with  never  a  pause  for  breath. 

A  strange  sight  met  her  eyes  in  the  twins'  room. 
The  twins  themselves  were  in  each  other's  arms, 
sobbing  bitterly.  Fairy  was  still  looking  hurriedly 
through  the  dresser  drawers. 

"They  are  gone,"  wailed  Carol,  "our  beautiful 
ruby  rings  that  belonged  to  grandmother." 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  229 

"Nonsense,"  cried  Prue  with  nervous  anger, 
"you've  left  them  in  the  bathroom,  or  on  the  kitchen 
shelves.  You're  always  leaving  them  somewhere 
over  the  place.  Come  on,  and  we'll  search  the 
house  just  to  convince  you." 

"No,  no,"  shrieked  the  twins.  "Let's  lock  the 
door  and  get  under  the  bed." 

The  rings  were  really  valuable.  Their  grand- 
mother, their  mother's  mother,  whom  they  had 
never  seen,  had  divided  her  "real  jewelry"  between 
her  two  daughters.  And  the  mother  of  these  par- 
sonage girls,  had  further  divided  her  portion  to 
make  it  reach  through  her  own  family  of  girls !  Pru- 
dence had  a  small  but  beautiful  chain  of  tiny  pearls. 
Fairy's  share  consisted  of  a  handsome  brooch,  with 
a  "sure-enough  diamond"  in  the  center!  The  twin 
rubies  of  another  brooch  had  been  reset  in  rings  for 
Carol  and  Lark,  and  were  the  priceless  treasures  of 
their  lives!  And  in  the  dungeon  was  a  solid  gold 
bracelet,  waiting  until  Connie's  arm  should  be  suffi- 
ciently developed  to  do  it  justice. 

"Our  rings!  Our  rings!"  the  twins  were  wail- 
ing, and  Connie,  awakened  by  the  noise,  was  cry- 
ing beneath  the  covers  of  her  bed. 

"Maybe  we'd  better  phone  for  Mr.  Allan,"  sug- 


230  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

gested  Fairy.  "The  girls  are  so  nervous  they  will 
be  hysterical  by  the  time  we  finish  searching  the 
house." 

"Well,  let's  do  the  up-stairs  then,"  said  Prudence. 
"Get  your  slippers  and  kimonos,  and  we'll  go  into 
daddy's  room." 

But  inside  the  door  of  daddy's  room,  with  the 
younger  girls  clinging  to  her,  and  Fairy  looking 
odd  and  disturbed,  Prudence  stopped  abruptly  and 
stared  about  the  room  curiously. 

"Fairy,  didn't  father  leave  his  watch  hanging  on 
that  nail  by  the  table  ?  Seems  to  me  I  saw  it  there 
this  morning.  I  remember  thinking  I  would  tease 
him  for  being  forgetful." 

And  the  watch  was  not  there. 

"I  think  it  was  Sunday  he  left  it,"  answered 
Fairy  in  a  low  voice.  "I  remember  seeing  it  on 
the  nail,  and  thinking  he  would  need  it, — but  I  be- 
lieve it  was  Sunday." 

Prudence  looked  under  the  bed,  and  in  the  closet, 
but  their  father's  room  was  empty.  Should  they  go 
farther?  For  a  moment,  the  girls  stood  looking  at 
one  another  questioningly.  Then — they  heard  a 
loud  thud  down-stairs,  as  of  some  one  pounding  on 
a  door.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  Some 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  231 

one  was  in  the  house!  Connie  and  the  twins 
screamed  again  and  clung  to  Prudence  frantically. 
And  Fairy  said,  "I  think  we'd  better  lock  the  door 
and  stay  right  here  until  morning,  Prue." 

But  Prudence  faced  them  stubbornly.  "If  you 
think  I'm  going  to  let  any  one  steal  that  fifty  dol- 
lars, you  are  mistaken.  Fifty  dollars  does  not  come 
often  enough  for  that,  I  can  tell  you." 

"It's  probably  stolen  already,"  objected  Fairy. 

"Well,  if  it  is,  we'll  find  out  who  did  it,  and  have 
them  arrested.  I'm  going  down  to  telephone  to  the 
police.  You  girls  must  lock  the  door  after  me,  and 
stay  right  here." 

The  little  ones  screamed  again,  and  Fairy  said: 
"Don't  be  silly,  Prue,  if  you  go  I'm  going  with  you, 
of  course.  We'll  leave  the  kiddies  here  and  they  can 
lock  the  door.  They'll  be  perfectly  safe  in  here." 

But  the  children  loudly  objected  to  this.  If  Prue 
and  Fairy  went,  they  would  go !  So  down  the  stairs 
they  trooped,  a  timorous  trembling  crowd.  Pru- 
dence went  at  once  to  the  telephone,  and  called  up 
the  residence  of  the  Allans,  their  neighbors  across 
the  street.  A'ler  a  seemingly  never-ending  wait, 
the  kind-heart.  !  neighbor  left  his  bed  to  answer  the 
insistent  telep  ic.  Falteringly  Prudence  explained 


232  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

their  predicament,  and  asked  him  to  come  and 
search  the  house.  He  promised  to  be  there  in  five 
minutes,  with  his  son  to  help. 

"Now,"  said  Prudence  more  cheerfully,  "we'll 
just  go  out  to  the  kitchen  and  wait.  It's  quiet  there, 
and  away  from  the  rest  of  the  house,  and  we'll  be 
perfectly  safe."  To  the  kitchen,  then,  they  hurried, 
and  found  real  comfort  in  its  smallness  and  secure- 
ness.  Prudence  raked  up  the  dying  embers  of  the 
fire,  and  Fairy  drew  the  blinds  to  their  lowest  lim- 
its. The  twins  and  Connie  trailed  them  fearfully 
at  every  step. 

When  the  fire  was  burning  brightly,  Prudence 
spoke  with  great  assurance.  "I'll  just  run  in  to  the 
dungeon  and  see  for  sure  if  the  money  is  there.  I 
do  not  honestly  believe  there  is  a  soul  in  the  house, 
but  I  can't  rest  until  I  know  that  money  is  safe." 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Fairy, 
"you'll  stay  right  here  and  wait  with  us.  I  do  not 
believe  there's  any  one  in  the  house,  either,  but  if 
there  is,  you  shan't  run  into  him  by  yourself.  You 
stay  right  where  you  are,  and  don't  be  silly.  Mr, 
Allan  will  do  the  investigating." 

Every  breath  of  wind  against  the  windows  drew 
startled  cries  from  the  younger  girls,  and  both  Fairy 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  233 

and  Prudence  were  white  with  anxiety  when  they 
heard  the  loud  voices  of  the  Allans  outside  the 
kitchen  door.  Prudence  began  crying  nervously 
the  moment  the  two  angels  of  mercy  appeared  be- 
fore her,  and  Fairy  told  their  tale  of  woe. 

"Well,  there  now,"  Mr.  Allan  said  with  rough 
sympathy,  "you  just  got  scared,  that's  all.  Every- 
thing's suspicious  when  folks  get  scared.  I  told 
my  wife  the  other  day  I  bet  you  girls  would  get  a 
good  fright  some  time  left  here  alone.  Come  on, 
Jim,  and  we'll  go  over  the  house  in  a  jiffy." 

He  was  standing  near  the  dining-room  door.  He 
lifted  his  head  suddenly,  and  seemed  to  sniff  a  little. 
There  was  undoubtedly  a  faint  odor  of  tobacco  in 
the  house. 

"Been  any  men  in  here  to-night?"  he  asked.  "Or 
this  afternoon?  Think,  now!" 

"No  one,"  answered  Prudence.  "I  was  alone  all 
afternoon,  and  there  has  been  no  one  in  this  eve- 
ning." 

He  passed  slowly  through  the  dining-room  into 
the  hall,  closely  followed  by  his  son  and  the  five 
girls,  already  much  reassured.  As  he  passed  the 
dungeon  door  he  paused  for  a  moment,  listening 
intently,  his  head  bent. 


234     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  Mr.  Allan,"  cried  Prudence,  "let's  look  in 
the  dungeon  first.  I  want  to  see  if  the  money 
is  safe."  Her  hand  was  already  on  the  lock,  but 
he  shoved  her  away  quickly. 

"Is  there  any  way  out  of  that  closet  besides  this 
door?"  he  asked. 

"No.  We  call  it  the  dungeon,"  laughed  Pru- 
dence, her  self-possession  quite  recovered.  "It  is 
right  under  the  stairs,  and  not  even  a  mouse  could 
gnaw  its  way  out,  with  this  door  shut." 

"Who  shut  that  door  ?"  he  inquired,  still  holding 
Prudence's  hand  from  the  lock.  Then  without  wait- 
ing for  an  answer,  he  went  on,  "Let's  go  back  in 
the  other  room  a  minute.  Come  on,  all  of  you." 
In  the  living-room,  he  hurried  to  the  telephone,  and 
spoke  to  the  operator  in  a  low  voice.  "Call  the  po- 
lice headquarters,  and  have  them  send  two  or  three 
men  to  the  Methodist  parsonage,  right  away. 
We've  got  a  burglar  locked  in  a  closet,  and  they'll 
ihave  to  get  him  out.  Please  hurry." 

At  this,  the  girls  crowded  around  him  again  in 
renewed  fear. 

"Don't  be  scared,"  he  said  calmly,  "we're  all 
right  He's  in  there  safe  enough  and  can't  get  out 
for  a  while.  Now,  tell  me  about  it.  How  did  you 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  235 

get  him  in  the  closet?  Begin  at  the  beginning,  and 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

Carol  began  the  story  with  keen  relish.  "I  woke 
up,  and  thought  I  heard  some  one  in  the  room.  I 
supposed  it  was  Prudence.  I  said,  'Prudence,'  and 
nobody  answered,  and  everything  was  quiet.  But 
I  felt  there  was  some  one  in  there.  I  nudged  Lark, 
and  she  woke  up.  He  moved  then,  and  we  both 
heard  him.  He  was  fumbling  at  the  dresser,  and 
our  ruby  rings  are  gone.  We  heard  him  step  across 
the  room  and  into  the  closet.  He  closed  the  door 
after  him,  didn't  he,  Lark?" 

"Yes,  he  did,"  agreed  Lark.  "His  hand  was  on 
the  knob." 

"So  we  sneaked  out  of  bed,  and  went  into  Pru- 
dence's room  and  woke  her  and  Fairy."  She  looked 
at  Connie,  and  blushed.  "Connie  was  asleep,  and  we 
didn't  waken  her  because  we  didn't  want  to  frighten 
her.  We  woke  the  girls, — and  you  tell  the  rest, 
Prudence  " 

"We  didn't  believe  her,  of  course.  We  went  back 
into  their  room  and  there  was  no  one  there.  But 
the  rings  were  gone.  While  they  were  looking  at 
the  dresser,  1  remembered  that  I  forgot  to  lock  the 
dungeon  door,  where  we  keep  the  money  and  the 


236  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

silverware,  and  I  ran  down-stairs  and  slammed  the 
door  and  locked  it,  and  went  back  up.  I  didn't  hear 
a  sound  down-stairs." 

Mr.  Allan  laughed  heartily.  "Well,  your  burglar 
was  in  that  closet  after  the  money,  no  doubt,  and  he 
didn't  hear  you  coming,  and  got  locked  in.  Did  you 
make  any  noise  coming  down  the  stairs?" 

"No.  I  was  in  my  bare  feet,  and  I  tried  to  be 
quiet  because  if  there  was  any  one  in  the  house,  I 
did  not  want  him  coming  at  me  in  the  dark.  I  ran 
back  up-stairs,  and  we  looked  in  father's  room.  I 
thought  father  had  forgotten  to  take  his  watch  with 
him,  but  it  wasn't  there. — Do  you  really  think  it 
was  Sunday  he  forgot  it,  Fairy?" 

"No,"  said  Fairy,  "it  was  there  this  afternoon. 
The  burglar's  got  it  in  the  dungeon  with  him,  of 
course. — I  just  said  it  was  Sunday  to  keep  from 
scaring  the  twins." 

In  a  few  minutes,  they  heard  footsteps  around 
the  house  and  knew  the  officers  had  arrived.  Mr. 
Allan  let  them  into  the  house,  four  of  them,  and  led 
them  out  to  the  hall.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
whatever  that  the  burglar  was  in  the  dungeon.  He 
had  been  busy  with  his  knife,  and  the  lock  was 
nearly  removed.  If  the  officers  had  been  two  min- 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  237 

utes  later,  the  dungeon  would  have  been  empty. 
The  girls  were  sent  up-stairs  at  once,  with  the  Allan 
boy  as  guard, — as  guard,  without  regard  for  the 
fact  that  he  was  probably  more  frightened  than 
any  one  of  them. 

The  chief  officer  rapped  briskly  on  the  dungeon 
door.  Then  he  clicked  his  revolver. 

"There  are  enough  of  us  to  overpower  three  of 
you,"  he  said  curtly.  "And  we  have  men  outside 
the  house,  too.  If  you  make  any  disturbance,  we 
shall  all  fire  the  instant  the  door  is  opened.  If  you 
put  your  firearms  on  the  floor,  and  hold  both  hands 
over  your  head,  you'll  be  well  treated.  If  your 
hands  are  not  up,  we  fire  on  sight.  Get  your  re- 
volvers ready,  boys." 

Then  the  officer  opened  the  door.  Evidently  the 
burglar  was  wise  enough  to  appreciate  the  futility  of 
fighting  against  odds.  Perhaps  he  did  not  wish  to 
add  the  charge  of  manslaughter  to  that  of  robbery. 
Certainly,  he  did  not  feel  himself  called  to  sudden 
death.  At  any  rate,  his  hands  were  above  his  head, 
and  in  less  than  a  second  he  was  securely  manacled. 

The  chief  officer  had  been  eying  him  closely. 
"Say!"  he  exclaimed.  "Aren't  you  Limber-Limb 
Grant  ?"  The  burglar  grinned,  but  did  not  answer. 


238     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"By  jove!"  shouted  the  officer.  "It  is!  Call  the 
girls  down  here,"  he  ordered,  and  when  they  ap- 
peared, gazing  at  the  burglar  with  mingled  admira- 
tion, pity  and  fear,  he  congratulated  them  with 
considerable  excitement. 

"It's  Limber-Limb  Grant,"  he  explained.  "There's 
a  reward  of  five  hundred  dollars  for  him.  You'll 
get  the  money,  as  sure  as  you're  born."  Then  he 
turned  again  to  the  burglar.  "Say,  Grant,  what's  a 
fellow  like  you  doing  on  such  a  fifth-rate  job  as 
this?  A  Methodist  parsonage  is  not  just  in  your 
line,  is  it?" 

Limber-Limb  laughed  sheepishly.  "Well,"  he  ex- 
plained good-naturedly,  "Chicago  got  too  hot  for 
me.  I  had  to  get  out  in  a  hurry,  and  I  couldn't  get 
my  hands  on  any  money.  I  had  a  fine  lot  of  jewels, 
but  I  was  so  pushed  I  couldn't  use  them.  I  came 
here  and  loafed  around  town  for  a  while,  because 
folks  said  Mount  Mark  was  so  fast  asleep  it  did  not 
even  wake  up  long  enough  to  read  the  daily  papers. 
I  heard  about  this  parsonage  bunch,  and  knew  the 
old  man  had  gone  off  to  get  more  religion.  This 
afternoon  at  the  station  I  saw  a  detective  from  Chi- 
cago get  off  the  train,  and  I  knew  what  that  meant. 
But  I  needed  some  cash,  and  so  I  wasn't  above  a 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  239 

little  job  on  the  side.  I  never  dreamed  of  getting 
done  up  by  a  bunch  of  preacher's  kids.  I  went  up- 
stairs to  get  those  family  jewels  I've  heard  about, 
and  one  of  the  little  ones  gave  the  alarm.  I  already 
had  some  of  them,  so  I  came  down  at  once.  I 
stopped  in  the  dungeon  to  get  that  money,  and  first 
thing  I  knew  the  door  banged  shut.  That's  all. 
You're  welcome  to  the  five  hundred  dollars,  ladies. 
Some  one  was  bound  to  get  it  sooner  or  later,  and 
I'm  partial  to  the  ladies,  every  time." 

Limber-Limb  Grant  was  a  modern  thief  of  the 
new  class.  At  that  moment,  in  Chicago,  he  had 
in  storage,  a  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
jewels,  which  he  could  not  dispose  of  on  the  pres- 
sure of  the  moment.  The  law  was  crowding  him 
close,  and  he  was  obliged  to  choose  between  meeting 
the  law,  or  running  away  from  it.  He  ran.  He 
reached  Mount  Mark,  and  trusted  to  its  drowsiness 
for  concealment  for  a  few  weeks.  But  that  after- 
inoon  the  arrival  of  a  detective  gave  him  warning, 
and  he  planned  his  departure  promptly.  A  parson- 
age occupied  by  only  five  girls  held  no  terrors  for 
him,  and  with  fifty  dollars  and  a  few  fairly  good 
jewels,  a  man  of  his  talent  could  accomplish 
wonders. 


240  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

But  Mount  Mark  had  aroused  from  its  lethargy. 
Limber-Limb  Grant  was  in  the  hands  of  the  law. 

Mr.  Starr  had  been  greatly  interested  in  the  ac- 
counts of  the  evangelistic  services  being  held  in  Bur- 
lington. The  workers  were  meeting  with  marked 
success,  and  Mr.  Starr  felt  he  should  get  in  touch 
with  them.  So  on  Thursday  morning  he  took  the 
early  east-bound  train  to  Burlington.  There  he 
sought  out  a  conveniently  located  second-class  hotel, 
and  took  up  residence.  He  attended  the  services  at 
the  tabernacle  in  the  afternoon  and  evening,  and 
then  went  to  bed  at  the  hotel.  He  slept  late  the  next 
morning.  When  he  finally  appeared,  he  noticed 
casually,  without  giving  it  thought,  that  the  clerk 
behind  the  desk  looked  at  him  with  marked  interest. 
Mr.  Starr  nodded  cheerfully,  and  the  clerk  came  at 
once  from  behind  the  desk  to  speak  to  him.  Two 
or  three  other  guests,  who  had  been  lounging  about, 
drew  near. 

"We've  just  been  reading  about  your  girls,  sir,'* 
said  the  clerk  respectfully.  "It's  a  pretty  nervy 
little  bunch !  You  must  be  proud  of  them !" 

"My  girls!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Starr. 

"Haven't  you  seen  the  morning  paper?    You're 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  241 

Mr.  Starr,  the  Methodist  minister  at  Mount  Mark, 
aren't  you?" 

"I  am !  But  what  has  happened  to  my  girls  ?  Is 
anything  wrong  ?  Give  me  the  paper !" 

Mr.  Starr  was  greatly  agitated.     He  showed  it 

But  the  clerk  could  not  lose  this  opportunity  to 
create  a  sensation.  It  was  a  chance  of  a  life- 
time. "Why,  a  burglar  got  in  the  parsonage  last 
night,"  he  began,  almost  licking  his  lips  with  satis- 
faction. "The  twins  heard  him  at  their  dresser,  and 
when  he  stepped  into  the  closet  they  locked  him 
in  there,  and  yelled  for  the  rest  of  the  family.  But 
he  broke  away  from  them,  and  went  down-stairs 
and  climbed  down  into  the  dungeon  to  get  the 
money.  Then  Prudence,  she  ran  down-stairs  alone 
in  the  dark,  and  locked  him  in  the  dungeon, — pushed 
him  down-stairs  or  something  like  that,  I  believe, — - 
and  then  telephoned  for  the  police.  And  she  stayed 
on  guard  outside  the  dungeon  until  the  police  got 
there,  so  he  couldn't  get  away.  And  the  police  got 
him,  and  found  it  was  Limber-Limb  Grant,  a  fa- 
mous gentleman  thief,  and  your  girls  are  going  to 
get  five  hundred  dollars  reward  for  catching  him." 

Five  minutes  later,  Mr.  Starr  and  his  suit-case 


242     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

were  in  a  taxicab  speeding  toward  Union  Station, 
and  within  eight  minutes  he  was  en  route  for  Mount 
Mark, — white  in  the  face,  shaky  in  the  knees,  but 
tremendously  proud  in  spirit. 

Arriving  at  Mount  Mark,  he  was  instantly  sur- 
rounded by  an  exclamatory  crowd  of  station 
loungers.  "Ride,  sir  ?  Glad  to  take  you  home  for 
nothing,"  urged  Harvey  Reel.  Mount  Mark  was 
enjoying  more  notoriety  than  ever  before  in  the  two 
hundred  years  of  its  existence.  The  name  of  Pru- 
dence was  upon  every  tongue,  and  her  father  heard 
it  with  satisfaction.  In  the  parsonage  he  found  at 
least  two-thirds  of  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society,  the  trus- 
tees and  the  Sunday-school  superintendent,  along 
with  a  miscellaneous  assortment  of  ordinary  mem- 
bers, mixed  up  with  Presbyterians,  Baptists  and  a 
few  unclassified  outsiders.  And  Prudence  was  the 
center  of  attraction. 

She  was  telling  the  "whole  story,"  for  perhaps 
the  fifteenth  time  that  morning,  but  she  broke  off 
when  her  father  hurried  in  and  flung  her  arms  about 
him.  "Oh,  papa,"  she  cried,  "they  mustn't  praise 
me.  I  had  no  idea  there  was  a  burglar  in  the  house 
when  I  ran  down  the  stairs,  and  if  I  hadn't  been 
careless  and  left  the  dungeon  unlocked  the  money 


A  BURGLAR'S  VISIT  243 

would  have  been  in  no  danger,  and  if  the  twins 
hadn't  wakened  me  I  wouldn't  have  known  there 
was  a  burglar  about  the  place,  and  if  Fairy  hadn't 
kept  me  from  rushing  out  to  the  dungeon  to  see  if 
the  money  was  safe,  he  would  have  got  away,  and 
— it  took  the  policemen  to  get  him  out.  Oh,  I  know 
that  is  not  very  grammatical,  father,  but  it's  just 
as  true  as  if  it  were!  And  I  honestly  cant  see  that 
much  credit  is  due  me." 

But  Mount  Mark  did  not  take  it  so  calmly.  And 
as  for  the  Methodist  church, — well,  the  Presbyte- 
rian people  used  to  say  there  was  "no  living  with 
those  Methodists,  since  the  girls  caught  a  burglar 
in  the  parsonage."  Of  course,  it  was  important, 
from  the  Methodist  point  of  view.  Pictures  of  the 
parsonage  and  the  church  were  in  all  the  papers  for 
miles  around,  and  at  their  very  next  meeting  the 
trustees  decided  to  get  the  piano  the  Sunday-school 
had  been  needing  for  the  last  hundred  years! 

When  the  five  hundred  dollars  arrived  from  Chi- 
cago, Prudence  felt  that  personally  she  had  no  real 
right  to  the  money.  "We  must  divide  it,"  she  in- 
sisted, "for  I  didn't  earn  it  a  bit  more  than  any  of 
the  others.  But  it  is  perfectly  glorious  to  have  five 
hundred  dollars,  isn't  it?  Did  you  ever  have  five 


244  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

hundred  dollars  before?  Just  take  it,  father,  and 
use  it  for  whatever  we  need.  It's  family  money." 

But  he  would  not  hear  of  this.  "No,"  he  said, 
"put  it  in  the  bank,  Prudence,  for  there  will  come  a 
time  when  you  will  want  money  very  badly.  Then 
you  will  have  it." 

"Let's  divide  it  then, — a  hundred  for  each  of 
us,"  she  urged. 

Neither  the  younger  girls  nor  their  father 
would  consent  to  this.  But  when  Prudence  stood 
very  firm,  and  pleaded  with  them  earnestly,  they 
decided  to  divide  it. 

-  "I  will  deposit  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for 
the  four  younger  ones,"  he  said,  "and  that  will 
leave  you  as  much." 

So  it  was  settled,  and  Prudence  was  a  happy  girl 
when  she  saw  it  safely  put  away  in  the  bank. 

"We  can  get  it  whenever  we  really  need  it,  you 
know,"  she  told  her  father  joyfully.  "It's  such  a 
comfort  to  know  it's  there!  I  feel  just  like  a  mil- 
lionaire, I  am  sure.  Do  you  think  it  would  be  all 
right  to  send  Limber-Limb  Grant  a  letter  of  thanks 
for  it?  We  were  horribly  scared,  but — well,  I  for 
one  am  willing  to  be  horribly  scared  for  such  a 
lot  of  money  as  that!" 


CHAPTER  XI 

ROMANCE   COMES 

SOMETIMES,  Methodists,  or  Presbyterians  or 
heretics,  whatever  we  may  be,  we  are  irresisti- 
bly impelled  to  the  conclusion  that  things  were 
simply  bound  to  happen!  However  slight  the 
cause, — still  that  cause  was  predestined  from  the 
beginning  of  time.  A  girl  may  by  the  sheerest  acci- 
dent, step  from  the  street-car  a  block  ahead  of  her 
destination, — an  irritating  incident.  But  as  she 
walks  that  block  she  may  meet  an  old-time  friend, 
and  a  stranger.  And  that  stranger, — ah,  you  can 
never  convince  the  girl  that  her  stepping  from  the 
car  too  soon  was  not  ordered  when  the  founda- 
tions of  the  world  were  laid. 

Even  so  with  Prudence,  good  Methodist  daughter 
that  she  was.  We  ask  her,  "What  if  you  had  not 
gone  out  for  a  ride  that  morning?"  And  Prudence, 
laughing,  answers,  "Oh,  but  I  had  to  go,  you  see." 
"Well,"  we  continue,  "if  you  had  not  met  him  that 
way,  you  could  have  met  him  some  other  way,  I 
245 


246  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

suppose."  "Oh,  no,"  declares  Prudence  decidedly, 
"it  had  to  happen  just  that  way." 

After  all,  down  in  plain  ink  on  plain  paper,  it 
was  very  simple.  Across  the  street  from  the  par- 
sonage was  a  little  white  cottage  set  back  among 
tall  cedars.  In  this  cottage  lived  a  girl  named 
Mattie  Moore, — a  common,  unlovely,  unexciting 
girl,  with  whom 'Romance  could  not  apparently  be 
intimately  concerned.  Mattie  Moore  taught  a  coun- 
try school  five  miles  out  from  town,  and  she  rode 
to  and  from  her  school,  morning  and  evening,  on  a 
bicycle. 

Years  before,  when  Prudence  was  young  and  bi- 
cycles were  fashionable,  she  had  been  intensely  fond 
of  riding.  But  as  she  gained  in  age,  and  bicycles 
lost  in  popularity,  she  discarded  the  amusement  as 
unworthy  a  parsonage  damsel. 

One  evening,  early  in  June,  when  the  world  was 
'fair  to  look  upon,  it  was  foreordained  that  Pru- 
dence should  be  turning  in  at  the  parsonage  gate 
just  as  Mattie  Moore  whirled  up,  opposite,  on  her 
dusty  wheel.  Prudence  stopped  to  interchange  po- 
lite inanities  with  her  neighbor,  and  Mattie,  wheel- 
ing the  bicycle  lightly  beside  her,  came  across  the 
street  and  stood  beneath  the  parsonage  maples  with 


ROMANCE  COMES  247 

Prudence.  They  talked  of  the  weather,  of  the 
coming  summer,  of  Mattie's  school,  rejoicing  that 
one  more  week  would  bring  freedom  from  books 
for  Mattie  and  the  younger  parsonage  girls. 

Then  said  Prudence,  seemingly  of  her  own  free 
will,  but  really  directed  by  an  all-controlling  Provi- 
dence, "Isn't  it  great  fun  to  ride  a  bicycle?  I  love 
it.  Sometime  will  you  let  me  ride  your  wheel  ?" 

"Why,  certainly.    You  may  ride  now  if  you  like.'* 

"No,"  said  Prudence  slowly,  "I  am  afraid  it 
would  not  do  for  me  to  ride  now.  Some  of  the 
members  might  see  me,  and — well,  I  am  very 
grown  up,  you  know. — Of  course,"  she  added  has- 
tily, "it  is  different  with  you.  You  ride  for  busi- 
ness, but  it  would  be  nothing  but  a  frolic  with  me. 
I  want  to  get  up  at  six  o'clock  and  go  early  in  the 
morning  when  the  world  is  fast  asleep.  Let  me 
take  it  to-morrow  morning,  will  you?  It  is  Satur- 
day, and  you  won't  be  going  to  school." 

"Yes,  of  course  you  may,"  was  the  hearty  an- 
swer. "You  may  stay  out  as  long  as  you  like.  I'm 
going  to  sew  to-morrow.  You  make  take  it  in  the 
parsonage  now  and  keep  it  until  morning.  I  al- 
ways sleep  late  on  Saturdays." 

So  Prudence  delightedly  tripped  up  the  parson- 


248  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

age  board  walk,  wheeling  the  bicycle  by  her  side. 
She  hid  it  carefully  in  the  woodshed,  for  the  twins 
were  rash  and  venturesome.  But  after  she  had  gone 
to  bed,  she  confided  her  plan  to  Fairy. 

"I'm  going  at  six  o'clock,  and  I'll  be  back  in  time 
to  get  breakfast.  But  as  you  know,  Fairy,  my  plans 
do  not  always  work  out  as  I  intend,  so  if  I  am  a 
little  late,  you'll  get  breakfast  for  papa  and  the  girls, 
like  a  dear,  won't  you?" 

Fairy  promised.  And  early  the  next  morning, 
Prudence,  in  a  plain  gingham  house  dress,  with  the 
addition  of  a  red  sweater  jacket  and  cap  for  warmth, 
set  out  upon  her  secret  ride.  It  was  a  magnificent 
morning,  and  Prudence  sang  for  pure  delight  as 
she  rode  swiftly  along  the  country  roads.  The 
country  was  simply  irresistible.  It  was  almost  in- 
toxicating. And  Prudence  rode  farther  than  she 
had  intended.  East  and  west,  north  and  south,  she 
went,  apparently  guided  only  by  her  own  caprice. 
She  knew  it  was  growing  late,  "but  Fairy'll  get 
breakfast,"  she  thought  comfortably. 

Finally  she  turned  in  a  by-road,  leading  between 
two  rich  hickory  groves.  Dismounting  at  the  top  of 
a  long  hill,  she  gazed  anxiously  around  her.  No 
one  was  in  sight.  The  nearest  house  was  two  miles 


ROMANCE  COMES  249 

behind,  and  the  road  was  long,  and  smooth,  and  in- 
viting, and  the  hill  was  steep.  Prudence  yearned 
for  a  good,  soul-stirring  coast,  with  her  feet  high 
up  on  the  framework  of  the  wheel,  and  the  pedals 
flying  around  beneath  her  skirts.  This  was  not  the 
new  and  modern  model  of  bicycle.  The  pedals  on 
Mattie  Moore's  wheel  revolved,  whether  one  worked 
them  or  not. 

It  seemed  safe.  The  road  sloped  down  gradually 
at  the  bottom,  with  an  incline  on  the  other  side. 
What  more  could  one  desire.  The  only  living  thing 
in  sight  besides  birds  gossiping  in  the  leafy  branches 
and  the  squirrel  scolding  to  himself,  was  a  sober- 
eyed  serious  mule  peacefully  grazing  near  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hill. 

Prudence  laughed  gleefully,  like  a  child.  She 
never  laughed  again  in  exactly  that  way.  This  was 
the  last  appearance  of  the  old  irresponsible  Pru- 
dence. The  curtain  was  just  ready  to  drop. 

"Here  goes!"  she  cried;  and  leaping  nimbly  into 
the  saddle,  she  pedaled  swiftly  a  few  times,  and 
then  lifted  her  feet  to  the  coveted  position.  The 
pedals  flew  around  beneath  her,  just  as  she  had  an- 
ticipated, and  the  wind  whistled  about  her  in  a  most 
exhilarating  way. 


250  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

But  as  she  neared  the  bottom,  a  disastrous  and 
totally  unexpected  thing  happened.  The  placid 
mule,  which  had  been  righteously  grazing  beside 
the  fence,  suddenly  stalked  into  the  middle  of  the 
road.  Prudence  screamed,  jerked  the  handle-bar  to 
the  right,  then  to  the  left,  and  then,  with  a  sicken- 
ing thud,  she  landed  head  first  upon  some  part  of 
the  mule's  anatomy.  She  did  not  linger  there,  how- 
ever. She  bounced  on  down  to  the  ground,  with  a 
little  cry  of  pain.  The  bicycle  crashed  beside  her, 
and  the  mule,  slightly  startled,  looked  around  at  her 
with  ears  raised  in  silent  questioning.  Then  he 
ambled  slowly  across  the  road,  and  deliberately  con- 
tinued his  grazing. 

Prudence  tried  to  raise  herself,  but  she  felt  sharp 
pain.  She  heard  some  one  leaping  over  the  fence 
near  her,  and  wondered,  without  moving  her  head, 
if  it  could  be  a  tramp  bent  on  highway  robbery.  The 
next  instant,  a  man  was  leaning  over  her.  "It's  not 
a  tramp,"  she  thought,  before  he  had  time  to  speak. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  he  cried.    "You  poor  child!" 

Prudence  smiled  pluckily.  "My  ankle  is  hurt  a 
little,  but  I  am  not  a  child." 

The  young  man,  in  great  relief,  laughed  aloud, 
and  Prudence  joined  him  rather  faintly 


ROMANCE  COMES  251 

"I'm  afraid  I  can  not  walk,"  she  said.  "I  be- 
lieve I've  broken  my  ankle,  maybe  my  whole  leg, 
for  all  I  know.  It — hurts — pretty  badly !" 

"Lie  down  like  this,"  he  said,  helping  her  to  a 
more  comfortable  position,  "do  not  move.  May  I 
examine  your  foot?" 

She  shook  her  head,  but  he  removed  the  shoe  re- 
gardless of  her  head-shake.  "I  believe  it  is 
sprained.  I  am  sure  the  bone  is  not  broken.  But 
how  in  the  world  will  you  get  home?  How  far  is 
it  to  Mount  Mark?  Is  that  where  you  live?" 

"Yes,"  considering,  "yes,  I  live  there,  and  it  must 
be  four  miles,  anyhow.  What  shall  I  do?" 

In  answer,  he  pulled  off  his  coat,  and  arranged 
it  carefully  by  the  side  of  the  road  on  the  grass. 
Then  jerking  open  the  bag  he  had  carried,  he  took 
out  a  few  towels,  and  three  soft  shirts.  Hastily 
rolling  them  together  for  a  pillow,  he  added  it  to 
the  bed  pro  tern.  Then  he  turned  again  to  Pru- 
dence. 

"I'll  carry  you  over  here,  and  fix  you  as  comfort- 
ably as  I  can.  Then  I'll  go  to  the  nearest  house  and 
get  a  wagon  to  take  you  home." 

Prudence  was  not  shy,  and  realizing  that  his  plan 
was  the  wise  one,  she  made  no  objections  when  he 


252     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

came  to  help  her  across  the  road.  "I  think  I  can 
walk  if  you  lift  me  up." 

But  the  first  movement  sent  such  a  twinge  of  pain 
through  the  wounded  ankle  that  she  clutched  him 
frantically,  and  burst  into  tears.  "It  hurts,"  she 
pried,  "don't  touch  me." 

Without  speaking,  he  lifted  her  as  gently  as  he 
could  and  carried  her  to  the  place  he  had  prepared 
for  her.  "Will  you  be  warm  enough?"  he  asked, 
after  he  had  stood  looking  awkwardly  down  upon 
the  sobbing  girl  as  long  as  he  could  endure  it 

"Yes,"  nodded  Prudence,  gulping  down  the  big 
sob  rising  in  her  throat. 

"I'll  run.  Do  you  know  which  way  is  nearest 
to  a  house  ?  It's  been  a  long  time  since  I  passed  one 
coming  this  way." 

"The  way  I  came  is  the  nearest,  but  it's  two 
miles,  I  think." 

"I'll  go  as  fast  as  I  can,  and  you  will  be  all  right. 
This  confounded  cross-cut  is  so  out  of  the  way  that 
no  one  will  pass  here  for  hours,  I  suppose.  Now 
lie  as  comfortably  as  you  can,  and  do  not  worry. 
I'm  going  to  run." 

Off  he  started,  but  Prudence,  left  alone,  was  sud- 
denly frightened.  "Please,  oh,  please,"  she  called 


ROMANCE  COMES  253 

after  him,  and  when  he  came  back  she  buried  her 
face  in  shame,  deep  in  the  linen  towel. 

"I'm  afraid,"  she  whispered,  crying  again.  "I 
do  not  wish  to  be  left  alone  here.  A  snake  might 
come,  or  a  tramp." 

He  sat  down  beside  her.  "You're  nervous.  I'll 
stay  with  you  until  you  feel  better.  Some  one  may 
come  this  way,  but  it  isn't  likely.  A  man  I  passed 
on  the  road  a  ways  back  told  me  to  cut  through  the 
hickory  grove  and  I  would  save  a  mile  of  travel. 
That's  how  I  happened  to  come  through  the  woods, 
and  find  you."  He  smiled  a  little,  and  Prudence, 
remembering  the  nature  of  her  accident,  flushed. 
Then,  being  Prudence,  she  laughed. 

"It  was  my  own  fault.  I  had  no  business  to  go 
coasting  down  like  that.  But  the  mule  was  so  sta- 
tionary. It  never  occurred  to  me  that  he  contem- 
plated moving  for  the  next  century  at  least.  He 
was  a  bitter  disappointment."  She  looked  down  the 
roadside  where  the  mule  was  contentedly  grazing, 
with  never  so  much  as  a  sympathetic  glance  toward 
his  victim. 

"I'm  afraid  your  bicycle  is  rather  badly  done  up." 

"Oh, — whatever  will  Mattie  Moore  say  to  me? 
It's  borrowed.  Oh,  I  see  now,  that  it  was  just  fool- 


254  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ish  pride  that  made  me  unwilling  to  ride  during  de- 
cent hours.  What  a  dunce  I  was, — as  usual." 

He  looked  at  her  curiously.  This  was  beyond  his 
comprehension. 

"The  bicycle  belongs  to  Mattie  Moore.  She  lives 
across  the  street  from  the  parsonage,  and  I  wanted 
to  ride.  She  said  I  could.  But  I  was  ashamed  to 
ride  in  the  daytime,  for  fear  some  of  the  members 
would  think  it  improper  for  a  girl  of  the  parsonage, 
and  so  I  got  up  at  six  o'clock  this  morning  to  do  it 
on  the  sly.  Somehow  I  never  can  remember  that 
it  is  just  as  bad  to  do  things  when  you  aren't  seen 
as  when  you  are.  It  doesn't  seem  so  bad,  does  it? 
But  of  course  it  is.  But  I  never  think  of  that  when 
I  need  to  be  thinking  of  it.  Maybe  I'll  remember 
after  this."  She  was  silent  a  while.  "Fairy '11  have 
to  get  breakfast,  and  she  always  gets  father's  eggs 
too  hard."  Silence  again.  "Maybe  papa'll  worry. 
But  then,  they  know  by  this  time  that  something  al- 
ways does  happen  to  me,  so  they'll  be  prepared." 

She  turned  gravely  to  the  young  man  beside  her. 
He  was  looking  down  at  her,  too.  And  as  their 
eyes  met,  and  clung  for  an  instant,  a  slow  dark 
color  rose  in  his  face.  Prudence  felt  a  curious 


ROMANCE  COMES  255 

breathlessness, — caused  by  her  hurting  ankle,  un- 
doubtedly. 

"My  name  is  Prudence  Starr, — I  am  the  Meth- 
odist minister's  oldest  daughter." 

"And  my  name  is  Jerrold  Harmer."  He  was 
looking  away  into  the  hickory  grove  now.  "My 
home  is  in  Des  Moines." 

"Oh,  Des  Moines  is  quite  a  city,  isn't  it?  I've 
heard  quite  a  lot  about  it.  It  isn't  so  large  as  Chi- 
cago, though,  of  course.  I  know  a  man  who  lives 
in  Chicago.  We  used  to  be  great  chums,  and  he 
told  me  all  about  the  city.  Some  day  I  must  really 
go  there, — when  the  Methodists  get  rich  enough  to 
pay  their  ministers  just  a  little  more  salary."  Then 
she  added  thoughtfully,  "Still,  I  couldn't  go  even 
if  I  had  the  money,  because  I  couldn't  leave  the 
parsonage.  So  it's  just  as  well  about  the  money, 
after  all.  But  Chicago  must  be  very  nice.  He  told 
me  about  the  White  City,  and  the  big  parks,  and 
the  elevated  railways,  and  all  the  pretty  restaurants 
and  hotels.  I  love  pretty  places  to  eat.  You  might 
tell  me  about  Des  Moines.  Is  it  very  nice?  Are 
there  lots  of  rich  people  there? — Of  course,  I  do 
not  really  care  any  more  about  the  rich  people  than 


256     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

the  others,  but  it  always  makes  a  city  seem  grand 
to  have  a  lot  of  rich  citizens,  I  think.  Don't 
you?" 

So  he  told  her  about  Des  Moines,  and  Prudence 
lay  with  her  eyes  half -closed,  listening,  and  wonder- 
ing why  there  was  more  music  in  his  voice  than  in 
most  voices.  Her  ankle  did  not  hurt  very  badly. 
She  did  not  mind  it  at  all.  In  fact,  she  never  gave 
it  a  thought.  From  beneath  her  lids,  she  kept  her 
eyes  fastened  on  Jerrold  Harmer's  long  brown 
hands,  clasped  loosely  about  his  knees.  And  when- 
ever she  could,  she  looked  up  into  his  face.  And 
always  there  was  that  curious  catching  in  her 
breath,  and  she  looked  away  again  quickly,  feeling 
that  to  look  too  long  was  dangerous. 

"I  have  talked  my  share  now,"  he  was 
saying,  "tell  me  all  about  yourself,  and  the  par- 
sonage, and  your  family.  And  who  is  Fairy?  And 
do  you  attend  the  college  at  Mount  Mark?  You 
look  like  a  college  girl." 

"Oh,  I  am  not,"  said  Prudence,  reluctant  to  make 
the  admission  for  the  first  time  in  her  life.  "I  am 
too  stupid  to  be  a  college  girl.  Our  mother  is  not 
living,  and  I  left  high  school  five  years  ago  and 
have  been  keeping  house  for  my  father  and  sisters 


ROMANCE  COMES  257 

since  then.  I  am  twenty  years  old.  How  old  are 
you?" 

"I  am  twenty-seven,"  and  he  smiled. 

"Jerrold  Harmer,"  she  said  slowly  and  very  mu- 
sically. "It  is  such  a  nice  name.  Do  your  friends 
call  you  Jerry?" 

"The  boys  at  school  called  me  Roldie,  and  some- 
times Hammie.  But  my  mother  always  called  me 
Jerry.  She  isn't  living  now,  either.  You  call  me 
Jerry,  will  you?" 

"Yes,  I  will,  but  it  won't  be  proper.  But  that 
never  makes  any  difference  to  me, — except  when 
it  might  shock  the  members !  You  want  me  to  call 
you  Jerry,  don't  you?" 

"Yes,  I  do.  And  when  we  are  better  acquainted, 
will  you  let  me  call  you  Prudence  ?" 

"Call  me  that  now. — I  can't  be  too  particular,  you 
see,  when  I  am  lying  on  your  coat  and  pillowed  with 
your  belongings.  You  might  get  cross,  and  take 
them  away  from  me. — Did  you  go  to  college?" 

"Yes,  to  Harvard,  but  I  was  not  much  of  a  stu- 
dent. Then  I  knocked  around  a  while,  looking  at 
the  world,  and  two  years  ago  I  went  home  to  Des 
Moines.  I  have  been  there  ever  since  except  for 
little  runs  once  in  a  while." 


258  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence  sighed.  "To  Harvard! — I  am  sorry 
now  that  I  did  not  go  to  college  myself." 

"Why  ?  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  anything  lack- 
ing about  you.  What  do  you  care  about  college?'' 

"Well,  you  went  to  college,"  she  answered  argu- 
mentatively.  "My  sister  Fairy  is  going  now.  She's 
very  clever, — oh,  very.  You'll  like  her,  I  am  sure, — • 
much  better  than  you  do  me,  of  course."  Prudence 
was  strangely  downcast. 

"I  am  sure  I  won't,"  said  Jerrold  Harmer,  with 
unnecessary  vehemence.  "I  don't  care  a  thing  for 
college  girls.  I  know  a  lot  of  them,  and — aw,  they 
make  a  fellow  tired.  I  like  home  girls, — the  kind 
that  stay  at  home,  and  keep  house,  and  are  sweet, 
and  comfortable,  and  all  that."  Jerrold  flipped  over 
abruptly,  and  lay  on  the  grass,  his  face  on  his  arms 
turned  toward  her  face.  They  were  quiet  for  a 
while,  but  their  glances  were  clinging. 

"Your  eyes  are  brown,  aren't  they?"  Prudence 
smiled,  as  though  she  had  made  a  pleasant  dis- 
covery. 

"Yes.  Yours  are  blue.  I  noticed  that,  first 
thing." 

"Did  you?    Do  you  like  blue  eyes ?    They  aren't 


ROMANCE  COMES  259 

as — well,  as  strong  and  expressive  as  brown  eyes. 
Fairy's  are  brown." 

"I  like  blue  eyes  best.  They  are  so  much 
brighter  and  deeper.  You  can't  see  clear  to  the 
bottom  of  blue  eyes, — you  have  to  keep  looking." 
And  he  did  keep  looking. 

"Did  you  play  football  at  college?  You  are  so 
tall.  Fairy's  tall,  too.  Fairy's  very  grand-looking. 
I've  tried  my  best  to  eat  lots,  and  exercise,  and 
make  myself  bigger,  but — I  am  a  fizzle." 

"Yes,  I  played  football. — But  girls  do  not  need 
to  be  so  tall  as  men.  Don't  you  remember  what 
Orlando  said  about  Rosalind, — 'just  as  tall  as  my 
heart'  ?  I  imagine  you  come  about  to  my  shoulder. 
.We'll  measure  as  soon  as  you  are  on  your  feet 
again." 

"Are  you  going  to  live  in  Mount  Mark  now? 
Are  you  coming  to  stay?"  Prudence  was  almost 
quivering  as  she  asked  this.  It  was  of  vital  im- 
portance. 

"No,  I  will  only  be  there  a  few  days,  but  I  shall 
probably  be  back  every  week  or  so.  Is  your 
father  very  strict?  Maybe  he  would  object  to  your 
writing  to  me." 


260  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Oh,  he  isn't  strict  at  all.  And  he  will  be  glad 
for  me  to  write  to  you,  I  know.  I  write  to  two  or 
three  men  when  they  are  away.  But  they  are — oh, 
I  do  not  know  exactly  what  it  is,  but  I  do  not  really 
like  to  write  to  them.  I  believe  I'll  quit.  It's  such  a 
bother." 

"Yes,  it  is,  that's  so.  I  think  I  would  quit,  if  I 
were  you.  I  was  just  thinking  how  silly  it  is  for 
me  to  keep  on  writing  to  some  girls  I  used  to  know. 
Don't  care  two  cents  about  'em.  I'm  going  to  cut 
it  out  as  soon  as  I  get  home.  But  you  will  write  to 
me,  won't  you?" 

"Yes,  of  course."  Prudence  laughed  shyly.  "It 
seems  so — well,  nice, — to  think  of  getting  letters 
from  you." 

"I'll  bet  there  are  a  lot  of  nice  fellows  in  Mount 
Mark,  aren't  there?" 

"Why,  no.  I  can't  think  of  any  real  nice  ones! 
Oh,  they  are  all  right.  I  have  lots  of  friends  here, 
but  they  are — I  do  not  know  what !  They  do  not 
seem  very  nice.  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  never  saw  them 
again.  But  they  are  good  to  me." 

"Yes,  I  can  grasp  that,"  he  said  with  feeling. 

"Is  Des  Moines  just  full  of  beautiful  girls?" 

"I  should  say  not.     I  never  saw  a  real  beautiful 


ROMANCE  COMES  261 

girl  in  Des  Moines  in  my  life.  Or  any  place  else, 
for  that  matter, — until  I  came —  You  know  when 
you  come  right  down  to  it,  there  are  mighty  few 
girls  that  look — just  the  way  you  want  them  to 
look." 

Prudence  nodded.  "That's  the  way  with  men, 
too.  Of  all  the  men  I  have  seen  in  my  life,  I  never 
saw  one  before  that  looked  just  the  way  I  wanted 
him  to." 

"Before?"  he  questioned  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  said  Prudence  frankly.  "You  look  just 
as  I  wish  you  to." 

And  in  the  meanwhile,  at  the  parsonage,  Fairy 
was  patiently  getting  breakfast.  "Prudence  went 
out  for  an  early  bicycle  ride, — so  the  members 
wouldn't  catch  her,"  she  explained  to  the  family. 
"And  she  isn't  back  yet.  She'll  probably  stay  out 
•until  afternoon,  and  then  ride  right  by  the  grocery 
store  where  the  Ladies  have  their  Saturday  sale. 
That's  Prudence,  all  over.  Oh,  father,  I  did  for- 
get your  eggs  again,  I  am  afraid  they  are  too  hard. 
Here,  twins,  you  carry  in  the  oatmeal,  and  we  will 
eat.  No  use  to  wait  for  Prudence, — it  would  be 
like  waiting  for  the  next  comet." 

Indeed,  it  was  nearly  noon  when  a  small,  one- 


262     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

horse  spring  wagon  drove  into  the  parsonage  yard. 
Mr.  Starr  was  in  his  study  with  a  book,  but  he 
heard  a  piercing  shriek  from  Connie,  and  a  shrill 
"Prudence!"  from  one  of  the  twins.  He  was  down- 
stairs in  three  leaps,  and  rushing  wildly  out  to  the 
little  rickety  wagon.  And  there  was  Prudence! 

"Don't  be  frightened,  father.  I've  just  sprained 
my  ankle,  and  it  doesn't  hurt  hardly  any.  But  the 
bicycle  is  broken, — we'll  have  to  pay  for  it.  You 
can  use  my  own  money  in  the  bank.  Poor  Mr. 
Davis  had  to  walk  all  the  way  to  town,  because 
there  wasn't  any  room  for  him  in  the  wagon  with 
me  lying  down  like  this.  Will  you  carry  me  in?'* 

Connie's  single  bed  was  hastily  brought  down- 
stairs, and  Prudence  deposited  upon  it.  "There's 
no  use  to  put  me  up-stairs,"  she  assured  them. 
"1  won't  stay  there.  I  want  to  be  down  here  where 
I  can  boss  the  girls." 

The  doctor  came  in,  and  bandaged  the  swollen 
purple  ankle.  Then  they  had  dinner, — they  tried  to 
remember  to  call  it  luncheon,  but  never  succeeded! 
After  that,  the  whole  parsonage  family  grouped 
about  the  little  single  bed  in  the  cheery  sitting-room. 

"Whose  coat  is  this,  Prudence?"  asked  Connie. 


ROMANCE  COMES  263 

"And  where  in  the  world  did  you  get  these  tow- 
els and  silk  shirts?"  added  Fairy. 

Prudence  blushed  most  exquisitely.  "They  are 
Mr.  Harmer's,"  she  said,  and  glanced  nervously  at 
her  father. 

"Whose  ?"  chorused  the  family.  And  it  was  plain 
to  be  seen  that  Lark  was  ready  to  take  mental  notes 
.with  an  eye  to  future  stories. 

"If  you  will  sit  down  and  keep  still,  I  will  tell 
you  all  about  it.  But  you  must  not  interrupt  me. 
What  time  is  it,  Fairy?" 

"Two  o'clock." 

"Oh,  two.  Then  I  have  plenty  of  time.  Well, 
when  I  got  to  that  little  cross-cut  through  the  hick- 
ory grove,  about  four  miles  out  from  town,  I 
thought  I  would  coast  down  the  long  hill.  Do  you 
remember  that  hill,  father?  There  was  no  one  in 
sight,  and  no  animals,  except  one  hoary  old  mule, 
grazing  at  the  bottom.  It  was  irresistible,  abso- 
lutely irresistible.  So  I  coasted.  But  you  know 
yourself,  father,  there  is  no  trusting  a  mule.  They 
are  the  most  undependable  animals."  Prudence 
looked  thoughtfully  down  at  the  bed  for  a  moment, 
and  added  slowly,  "Still,  I  have  no  hard  feelings 


264     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

against  the  mule.  In  fact,  I  kind  of  like  him. — 
Well,  anyway,  just  as  I  got  to  the  critical  place  in 
the  hill,  that  mule  skipped  right  out  in  front  of  me. 
It  looked  as  though  he  did  it  on  purpose.  I  did  not 
have  time  to  get  out  of  his  way,  and  it  never  oc- 
curred to  him  to  get  out  of  mine,  and  so  I  went 
Bang !  right  into  him.  And  it  broke  Mattie  Moore's 
wheel,  and  upset  me  quite  a  little.  But  that  mule 
never  budged!  Jerry — er  Harmer, — Mr.  Harmer, 
you  know, — said  he  believed  an  earthquake  could 
coast  downhill  on  to  that  mule  without  seriously 
inconveniencing  him.  I  was  hurt  a  little,  and 
couldn't  get  up.  And  so  he  jumped  over  the 
fence, —  No,  Connie,  not  the  mule,  of  course !  Mr. 
Harmer!  He  jumped  over  the  fence,  and  put  his 
£oat  on  the  ground,  and  made  a  pillow  for  me  with 
the  shirts  and  towels  in  his  bag,  and  carried  me 
over.  Then  he  wanted  to  go  for  a  wagon  to  bring 
me  home,  but  I  was  too  nervous  and  scared,  so  he 
stayed  with  me.  Then  Mr.  Davis  came  along  with 
his  cart,  and  Jerry — er — Harmer,  you  know,  helped 
put  me  in,  and  the  cart  was  so  small  they  both  had 
to  walk." 

"Where  is  he  now?"     "Is  he  young?"     "Is  he 
handsome?"    "Did  he  look  rich?" 


ROMANCE  COMES  265 

"Don't  be  silly,  girls.  He  went  to  the  hotel,  I 
suppose.  Anyhow,  he  left  us  as  soon  as  we  reached 
town.  He  said  he  was  in  a  hurry,  and  had  some- 
thing to  look  after.  His  coat  was  underneath  me 
in  the  wagon,  and  he  wouldn't  take  it  out  for  fear 
of  hurting  my  ankle,  so  the  poor  soul  is  probably; 
wandering  around  this  town  in  his  shirt-sleeves." 

Already,  in  the  eyes  of  the  girls,  this  Jerry — er — > 
Harmer,  had  taken  unto  himself  all  the  interest  of 
the  affair. 

"He'll  have  to  come  for  his  coat,"  said  Lark. 
"We're  bound  to  see  him." 

"Where  does  he  live  ?  What  was  he  doing  in  the 
hickory  grove  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Starr  with  a  strangely 
sinking  heart,  for  her  eyes  were  alight  with  new 
and  wonderful  radiance. 

"He  lives  in  Des  Moines.  He  was  just  walking 
into  town,  and  took  a  short  cut  through  the  grove/* 

"Walking!     From  Des  Moines?" 

Prudence  flushed  uncomfortably.  "I  didn't  think 
of  that,"  she  said.  "But  I  do  not  see  why  he  should 
not  walk  if  he  likes.  He's  strong  and  athletic,  and 
fond  of  exercise.  I  guess  he's  plenty  able  to  walk 
if  he  wants  to.  I'm  sure  he's  no  tramp,  father,  if 
that  is  what  you  are  thinking." 


266  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"I  am  not  thinking  anything  of  the  kind,  Pru- 
dence," he  said  with  dignity.  "But  I  do  think  it 
rather  strange  that  a  young  man  should  set  out  to 
walk  from  Des  Moines  to  Mount  Mark.  And  why 
should  he  be  at  it  so  early  in  the  morning?  Doesn't 
he  require  sleep,  as  the  rest  of  us  do?" 

"How  should  I  know?  I  guess  if  he  likes  to  be 
put  in  the  morning  when  it  is  fresh  and  sweet,  it 
is  all  right.  I  like  the  morning  myself.  He  had 
as  much  right  out  early  as  I  had.  His  clothes  were 
nice,  and  he  is  a  Harvard  graduate,  and  his  shoes 
were  dusty,  but  not  soiled  or  worn.  Anyhow,  he 
is  coming  at  four  o'clock.  If  you  want  to  ask  if 
he  is  a  tramp,  you  can  do  it"  And  Prudence  burst 
into  tears. 

Dramatic  silence  in  the  cheerful  sitting-room! 
Then  Fairy  began  bustling  about  to  bathe  the  face 
and  throat  of  "poor  little  Prudence,"  and  her  father 
said  sympathetically:, 

"You're  all  nervous  and  wrought  up,  with  the 
pain  and  excitement,  Prudence.  I'm  glad  he  is 
coming  so  we  can  thank  him  for  his  kindness.  It 
was  mighty  lucky  he  happened  along,  wasn't  it  ?  A 
Harvard  graduate!  Yes,  they  are  pretty  strong  on 
athletics  at  Harvard.  You'd  better  straighten  this 


ROMANCE  COMES  267 

room  a  little  and  have  things  looking  nice  when  he 
gets  here,"  said  Father  Starr,  with  great  diplomacy. 
And  he  was  rewarded,  and  startled,  by  observing 
that  Prudence  brightened  wonderfully  at  his  words. 

"Yes,  do,"  she  urged  eagerly.  "Get  some  of  the 
roses  from  the  corner  bush,  and  put  them  on  the 
table  there.  And  when  you  go  up-stairs,  Fairy, 
you'd  better  bring  down  that  little  lace  spread  in 
the  bottom  drawer  of  our  dresser.  It'll  look  very 
nice  on  this  bed. — Work  hard,  girls,  and  get  every- 
thing looking  fine.  He'll  be  here  at  four,  he  said. 
You  twins  may  wear  your  white  dresses,  and  Con- 
nie must  put  on  her  blue  and  wear  her  blue  bows. 
— Fairy,  do  you  think  it  would  be  all  right  for  you 
to  wear  your  silk  dress?  Of  course,  the  silk  is 
rather  grand  for  home,  but  you  do  look  so  beau- 
tiful in  it.  Father,  will  you  put  on  your  black  suit, 
or  are  you  too  busy  ?  And  don't  forget  to  wear  the 
pearl  cuff  buttons  Aunt  Grace  sent  you." 

He  went  up-stairs  to  obey,  with  despair  in  his 
heart.  But  to  the  girls,  there  was  nothing  strange 
in  this  exactness  on  the  part  of  Prudence.  Jerrold 
Harmer  was  the  hero  of  the  romance,  and  they  must 
unite  to  do  him  honor.  He  was  probably  a  prince 
in  disguise.  Jerrold  Harmer  was  a  perfectly  thrill- 


268  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ing  name.  It  was  really  a  shame  that  America 
allows  no  titles, — Lord  Jerrold  did  sound  so  noble, 
and  Lady  Prudence  was  very  effective,  too.  He 
and  Prudence  were  married,  and  had  a  family  of 
four  children,  named  for  the  various  Starrs,  before 
one  hour  had  passed. 

"I'll  begin  my  book  right  away,"  Lark  was  say- 
ing. She  and  Carol  were  in  the  dining-room  madly 
polishing  their  Sunday  shoes, — what  time  they  were 
not  performing  the  marriage  ceremony  of  their  sis- 
ter and  The  Hero. 

"Yes,  do !  But  for  goodness'  sake,  don't  run  her 
into  a  mule!  Seems  to  me  even  Prudence  could 
have  done  better  than  that." 

"I'll  have  his  automobile  break  down  in  the 
middle  of  the  road,  and  Prudence  can  run  into  it 
The  carbureter  came  off,  and  of  course  the  car 
wouldn't  run  an  inch  without  it." 

"Yes,  that's  good,"  said  Carol  approvingly.  "It 
must  be  a  sixty  cylinder,  eight  horsepower — er — 
Ford,  or  something  real  big  and  costly." 

"Twins!  You  won't  be  ready,"  warned  Pru- 
dence, and  this  dire  possibility  sent  them  flying  up- 
stairs in  a  panic. 

While  the  girls,  bubbling  over  with  excitement, 


ROMANCE  COMES  269 

were  dressing  for  the  great  event,  Mr.  Starr  went 
down-stairs  to  sit  with  Prudence.  Carol  called  to 
him  on  his  way  down,  and  he  paused  on  the  stair- 
case, looking  up  at  her. 

"Lark  and  I  are  going  to  use  some  of  Fairy's 
powder,  father,"  she  said.  "We  feel  that  we  simply 
must  on  an  occasion  like  this.  And  for  goodness* 
sake,  don't  mention  it  before  Him!  It  doesn't  hap- 
pen very  often,  you  know,  but  to-day  we  simply 
must.  Now,  don't  you  say  anything  about  falling 
in  the  flour  barrel,  or  turning  pale  all  of  a  sudden, 
whatever  else  you  do.  We'd  be  so  mortified, 
father." 

Mr.  Starr  was  concerned  with  weightier  matters, 
and  went  on  down  to  Prudence  with  never  so  much 
as  a  reproving  shake  of  the  head  for  the  worldly- 
minded  young  twins. 

"Father,"  began  Prudence,  her  eyes  on  the  lace- 
coverlet,  "do  you  think  it  would  be  all  right  for 
me  to  wear  that  silk  dressing-gown  of  mother's? 
I  need  something  over  my  nightgown,  and  my  old 
flannel  kimono  is  so  ugly.  You  know,  mother  said 
I  was  to  have  it,  and — I'm  twenty  now.  Do  you 
think  it  would  be  all  right?  But  if  you  do  not  want 
me  to  wear  it " 


270  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"I  do  want  you  to,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "Yes, 
it  is  quite  time  you  were  wearing  it  I'll  get  it  out 
of  the  trunk  myself,  and  send  Fairy  down  to  help 
you."  Then  as  he  turned  toward  the  door,  he  asked 
carelessly,  "Is  he  very  good-looking,  Prudence?" 

And  Prudence,  with  a  crimson  face,  answered 
quickly,  "Oh,  I  really  didn't  notice,  father." 

He  went  on  up-stairs  then,  and  presently  Fairy 
came  down  with  the  dainty  silk  gown  trimmed  with 
fine  soft  lace.  "I  brought  my  lavender  ribbon  for 
your  hair,  Prudence.  It  will  match  the  gown  so 
nicely.  Oh,  you  do  look  sweet,  dearest.  I  pity 
Jerrold  Harmer,  I  can  tell  you  that.  Now  I  must 
hurry  and  finish  my  own  dressing." 

But  with  her  foot  on  the  bottom  stair,  she  paused. 
Her  sister  was  calling  after  her.  "Send  father 
down  here,  quick,  Fairy." 

Father  ran  down  quickly,  and  Prudence,  catching 
hold  of  his  hands,  whispered  wretchedly,  "Oh, 
father,  he — he  is  good-looking.  I — I  did  notice  it. 
I  didn't  really  mean  to  lie  to  you." 

"There,  now,  Prudence,"  he  said,  kissing  her 
tenderly,  "you  mustn't  get  excited  again.  I'm 
afraid  you  are  too  nervous  to  have  callers.  You 
must  lie  very  quietly  until  he  comes.  That  was  no 


ROMANCE  COMES  271 

lie,  child.  You  are  so  upset  you  do  not  know  what 
you  are  saying  to-day.  Be  quiet  now,  Prudence, — 
it's  nearly  time  for  him  to  come." 

"You  are  a  dear  good  father,"  she  cried,  kissing 
his  hands  passionately,  "but  it  was  a  lie.  I  did 
know  what  I  was  saying.  I  did  it  on  purpose." 

And  Mr.  Starr's  heart  was  heavy,  for  he  knew 
that  his  fears  were  realized. 


ROUSED  FROM   HER  SLUMBER 

AT  twenty  minutes  to  four,  the  parsonage 
family  clustered  excitedly  in  the  sitting-room, 
which  the  sunshine  flooded  theerily.  They  were 
waiting  for  the  hero  of  Prudence's  romance. 

"Oh,  Larkie,  will  you  run  up-stairs  and  bring  my 
lace  handkerchief?  It's  on  our  dresser,  in  the 
burnt-wood  box."  And  after  Lark  had  departed, 
she  went  on,  "The  flowers  are  not  quite  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  table,  Fairy, — a  little  to  the  right. — If 
you  would  move  the  curtains  the  least  little  bit, 
those  torn  places  would  not  show."  Then  she 
sighed.  "How  nice  you  all  look.  Oh,  Connie, 
won't  you  turn  the  clock  a  little  this  way,  so  I  can 
see  it?  That's  better,  thank  you,  precious.  Thank 
you,  Lark, — isn't  it  a  pretty  handkerchief?  I've 
only  carried  it  three  times,  and  I  have  never  really 
used  it.  Would  you  keep  these  pearls  on,  Fairy, 
or  would  you  take  them  off  ?" 

"I  would  keep  them  on,  Prue, — they  catch  the 
272 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      273 

color  of  the  gown  a  little,  and  are  just  beautiful. 
You  do  look  so  sweet,  but  your  face  is  very  flushed. 
I  am  afraid  you  are  feverish.  Maybe  we  had  better 
not  let  him  see  Prue  to-day,  father.  Perhaps  he 
can  come  back  to-morrow." 

"Fairy !"  exclaimed  Prudence.    "Besides,  he  must 

come  in  to  get  his  coat.     We  can't  expect  him  to 

• 

go  coatless  over  Sunday.  Listen, — listen,  girls! 
Look,  Fairy,  and  see  if  that  is  he!  Yes,  it  is,  I 
know, — I  can  tell  by  his  walk."  Warm  rich  'color 
dyed  her  face  and  throat,  and  she  clasped  her  hands 
over  her  heart,  wondering  if  Connie  beside  her  could 
hear  its  tumult. 

"I'll  go  to  the  door,"  said  Father  Starr,  and  Pru- 
dence looked  at  him  beseechingly. 

"I — I  am  sure  he  is  all  right,  father.  I — you  will 
be  nice  to  him,  won't  you?" 

Without  answering,  Mr.  Starr  left  the  room.  He 
could  not  trust  his  voice. 

"Listen,  girls,  I  want  to  hear,"  whispered  Pru- 
dence. And  she  smiled  as  she  heard  her  father's 
cordial  voice. 

"You  are  Mr.  Harmer,  aren't  you?  I  am  Pru- 
dence's father.  Come  right  in.  The  whole  family 
is  assembled  to  do  you  honor.  The  girls  have  al- 


274  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

ready  made  you  a  prince  in  disguise.  Come  back 
this  way.  Prudence  is  resting  very  nicely." 

When  the  two  men  stepped  into  the  sitting-room, 
Prudence,  for  once,  quite  overlooked  her  father. 
She  lifted  her  eyes  to  Jerrold  Harmer's  face,  and 
waited,  breathless.  Nor  was  he  long  in  rinding  her 
among  the  bevy  of  girls.  He  walked  at  once  to  the 
bed,  and  took  her  hand. 

"My  little  comrade  of  the  road,"  he  said  gaily, 
but  with  tenderness,  "I  am  afraid  you  are  not  feel- 
ing well  enough  for  callers  to-day." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am,"  protested  Prudence  with  strange 
shyness. 

He  turned  to  the  other  girls,  and  greeted  them 
easily.  He  was  entirely  self-possessed.  "Miss 
Starr  told  me  so  much  about  you  that  I  know  you 
all  to  begin  with."  He  smiled  at  Fairy  as  he  added, 
"In  fact,  she  predicted  that  I  am  to  fall  in  love 
with  you.  And  so,  very  likely,  I  should, — if  I 
hadn't  met  your  sister  first." 

They  all  laughed  at  that,  and  then  he  walked  back 
and  stood  by  Prudence  once  more.  "Was  it  a  bad 
sprain?  Does  it  pain  you  very  badly?  You  look 
tired.  I  am  afraid  it  was  an  imposition  for  me  to 
come  this  afternoon." 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      275 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  that,"  put  in  Connie  anx- 
iously. "She  wanted  you  to  come.  She's  been  get- 
ting us  ready  for  you  ever  since  the  doctor  left.  I 
think  it  was  kind  of  silly  for  me  to  wear  my  blue 
just  for  one  caller." 

The  twins  glared  at  her,  realizing  that  she  was 
discrediting  the  parsonage,  but  Jerrold  Harmer 
laughed,  and  Prudence  joined  him. 

"It  is  quite  true,"  she  admitted  frankly.  "The 
mule  and  I  disgraced  the  parsonage  this  morning, 
and  I  wanted  the  rest  of  you  to  redeem  it  this  after- 
noon." She  looked  at  him  inquiringly.  "Then  you 
had  another  coat?" 

"No,  I  didn't.  I  saw  this  one  in  a  window  this 
morning,  and  couldn't  resist  it.  Was  the  ride  very 
hard  on  your  ankle?" 

Mr.  Starr  was  puzzled.  Evidently  it  was  not  lack 
*  of  funds  which  brought  this  man  on  foot  from  Des 
Moines  to  Mount  Mark, — half-way  across  the 
state !  He  did  not  look  like  a  man  fleeing  from  jus- 
tice. What,  then,  was  the  explanation? 

"You  must  have  found  it  rather  a  long  walk," 
he  began  tentatively,  his  eyes  on  the  young  man's 
face. 

"Yes,  I  think  my  feet  are  a  little  blistered.     I 


276  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

have  walked  farther  than  that  many  times,  but  I  am 
out  of  practise  now.  Sometimes,  however,  walking 
is  a  painful  necessity." 

"How  long  did  it  take  you  coming  from  Des 
Moines  to  Mount  Mark?"  inquired  Carol  in  a  sub- 
dued and  respectful  voice, — and  curious,  withal. 

"I  did  not  come  directly  to  Mount  Mark.  I 
stopped  several  places  on  business.  I  hardly  know 
how  long  it  would  take  coming  straight  through. 
It  would  depend  on  one's  luck,  I  suppose." 

"Well,"  said  Lark,  "taking  it  a  little  at  a  time 
it  might  be  done,  but  for  myself,  I  should  never 
dream  of  undertaking  so  much  exercise." 

"Could  you  walk  from  here  to  Burlington  at  one 
stretch?"  asked  Connie. 

He  looked  rather  surprised.  "Why,  perhaps  I 
could  if  I  was  in  shape,  but — seven  miles  was  all  I 
cared  about  this  morning." 

"Well,  I  think  it  was  mighty  brave  of  you  to  walk 
that  far, — I  don't  care  why  you  did  it,"  announced 
Connie  with  emphasis. 

"Brave!"  he  repeated.  "I  have  walked  three 
times  seven  miles,  often,  when  I  was  in  school." 

"Oh,  I  mean  the  whole  thing— ^clear  from  Des 
Moines,"  explained  Connie. 


"She  predicted  I'm  to  fall  in  love  with  you" 


"From  Des  Moines,"  he  gasped.  "Good  heavens ! 
I  did  not  walk  from  Des  Moines !  Did  you — "  He 
turned  to  Prudence  questioningly.  "Did  you  think 
I  walked  clear  from  Des  Moines?" 

"Yes."  And  added  hastily,  "But  I  did  not  care 
if  you  did.  It  did  not  make  any  difference  how 
you  came." 

For  a  moment  he  was  puzzled.  Then  he  burst 
out  laughing.  "I  am  afraid  we  had  too  much  to 
talk  about  this  morning.  I  thought  I  had  explained 
my  situation,  but  evidently  I  did  not.  I  drove  from 
Des  Moines  in  the  car,  and " 

"The  automobile !"  gasped  Carol,  with  a  triumph- 
ant look  at  Lark. 

"Yes,  just  so.  I  stopped  several  places  on  busi- 
ness as  I  came  through.  I  drove  from  Burlington 
this  morning,  but  I  got  off  the  road.  The  car  broke 
down  on  me,  and  I  couldn't  fix  it, — broke  an  axle. 
So  I  had  to  walk  in.  That  is  what  I  was  seeing 
about  to-day, — sending  a  man  out  for  the  car  and 
arranging  about  the  repairs."  He  smiled  again. 
"What  in  the  world  did  you  think  I  would  walk 
from  Des  Moines  for?"  he  asked  Prudence,  more 
inquisitive  than  grammatical. 

"I  did  not  think  anything  about  it  until  they 


278  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

asked,  and — I  did  not  know  about  the  car.  You 
did  not  mention  it." 

"No.  I  remember  now.  We  were  talking  of 
other  things  all  the  time."  He  turned  frankly  to 
Mr.  Starr.  "Perhaps  you  have  heard  of  the  Har- 
mer  Automobile  Company,  of  Des  Moines.  My 
father  was  Harvey  Harmer.  Two  years  ago,  when 
I  was  running  around  in  Europe,  he  died.  It  was 
his  desire  that  I  should  personally  take  charge  of 
the  business.  So  I  hurried  home,  and  have  had 
charge  of  the  company  since  then.  We  are  estab- 
lishing sales  agencies  here,  and  in  Burlington,  and 
several  other  towns.  I  came  out  for  a  little  trip, 
and  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  discuss 
the  business  with  our  new  men.  That's  what 
brought  me  to  Mount  Mark."  To  Connie  he  added 
laughingly,  "So  I  must  sacrifice  myself,  and  do 
without  your  praise.  I  did  not  walk  until  the  car 
broke  down  and  compelled  me  to  do  so." 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life,  Prudence  distinctly 
triumphed  over  her  father.  She  flashed  him  the 
glance  of  a  conqueror,  and  he  nodded,  understand- 
ingly.  He  liked  Jerrold  Harmer, — as  much  as  he 
could  like  any  man  who  stepped  seriously  into  the 
life  of  Prudence.  He  was  glad  that  things  were 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      279 

well.  But — they  would  excuse  him,  he  must  look 
after  his  Sunday's  sermons. 

A  little  later  the  twins  and  Connie  grew  restless, 
and  finally  Connie  blurted  out,  "Say,  Prue,  don't 
you  think  we've  upheld  the  parsonage  long  enough  ? 
I  want  to  get  some  fresh  air."  The  twins  would 
never  have  been  guilty  of  such  social  indiscretion 
as  this,  but  they  gladly  availed  themselves  of  Con- 
nie's "break,"  and  followed  her  out-of-doors.  Then 
Fairy  got  up,  laughing.  "I  have  done  my  share, 
too.  I  think  we'll  leave  the  parsonage  in  your  hands 
now,  Prue.  I  want  to  write  to  Aunt  Grace.  I'll 
be  just  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  if  Prudence 
wants  me,  you  will  call,  won't  you,  Mr.  Harmer? 
And  won't  you  stay  for  dinner  with  us?  I'm  sure 
to  disgrace  the  parsonage  again,  for  I  am  no  cook, 
but  you  can  get  along  for  once,  surely.  We  spend 
more  time  laughing  when  the  food  is  bad,  and 
laughter  is  very  healthful.  You  will  stay,  won't 
you?" 

Jerrold  Harmer  looked  very  eager,  and  yet  he 
looked  somewhat  doubtfully  at  Prudence.  Her 
eyes  were  eloquent  with  entreaties.  Finally  he 
laughed,  and  said,  "I  should  certainly  like  to  stay, 
but  you  see  I  want  to  come  back  to-morrow.  Now, 


will  I  dare  to  come  back  to-morrow  if  I  stay  for 
dinner  to-night?  Wouldn't  Connie  say  that  was 
disgracing  the  parsonage?" 

Fairy  laughed  delightedly.  "That  is  very  good," 
she  said.  "Then  you  will  stay.  I'll  try  to  fix  it 
up  with  Connie  to  save  the  reputation  of  the  house. 
Now,  do  not  talk  too  much,  Prue,  and — what  shall 
we  have  for  dinner  ?  We  only  say  dinner  when  we 
have  company,  Mr.  Harmer.  What  we  have  is 
supper." 

Prudence  contracted  her  brows  in  the  earnest 
endeavor  to  compose  a  menu  suitable  for  this  occa- 
sion. "Mashed  potatoes,  and — use  cream,  Fairy. 
You'd  better  let  Lark  do  the  mashing,  for  you  al- 
ways leave  lumps.  And  breaded  veal  cutlet,"  with 
a  significant  glance,  "and  creamed  peas,  and 
radishes,  and  fruit.  Will  that  be  enough  for  you, 
Mr.  Harmer?" 

"Oceans,"  he  said  contentedly. 

"Well,  I'll  collect  the  twins  and  Connie  and  we 
will  try  to  think  up  a  few  additions.  Where's  the 
money  ?" 

"In  the  dungeon,  and  the  key  is  on  the  nail  above 
the  door.  And  the  silverware  is  there,  too,"  with 
another  significant  glance. 


After  that,  Prudence  lay  back  happily  on  the  pil- 
lows and  smoothed  the  lace  on  her  mother's  silk 
dressing  gown. 

"Talk  to  me,"  she  said,  "tell  me  about  where  you 
live,  and  what  you  do, — your  work,  you  know,  and 
how  you  amuse  yourself.  I  want  you  to  amuse 
me  now,  Mr.  Harmer." 

"You  called  me  Jerry  this  morning." 

"Yes,  I  know.  Do  you  want  me  to  call  you  Jerry 
still?" 

"Yes,  Prudence,  I  do.  Do  you  mind  if  I  move 
my  chair  a  little  closer?" 

"No,  put  it  right  here.     Now,  I  am  ready." 

"But  there's  nothing  interesting  about  me.  Let's 
talk  of " 

"It's  interesting  to  me.  Tell  me  about  your  busi- 
ness." 

"You  don't  care  anything  about  business,  I  am 
sure." 

"I  care  about  your  business." 

"Do  you,  Prudence? — You  look  so  sweet  this 
afternoon.  I  nearly  blurted  it  out  before  the  whole 
family.  Wouldn't  the  twins  have  laughed?  It 
would  have  disgraced  the  parsonage.  I  think  Mr. 
Starr  is  awfully  lucky  to  have  five  girls,  and  all  of 


282     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

them  pretty.  But  isn't  it  strange  that  the  prettiest 
and  dearest  one  of  them  all  should  be  the  oldest 
daughter  ?" 

"Oh,  but  I'm  not  really — "  Prudence  began  ear- 
nestly. Then  she  stopped,  and  added  honestly, 
"But  I  am  glad  you  think  so." 

No,  they  did  not  quote  poetry,  they  did  not  dis- 
cuss the  psychological  intricacies  of  spontaneous  at- 
traction, they  did  not  say  anything  deep,  or  wise,  or 
learned.  But  they  smiled  at  each  other,  with  pleased 
investigating  eyes.  He  put  his  hand  on  the  cover- 
let, just  near  enough  to  touch  the  lace  on  the  sleeve 
of  her  silk  dressing  gown.  And  together  they 
found  Paradise  in  the  shabby  sitting-room  of  the 
old  Methodist  parsonage  that  afternoon. 

"Must  you  prepare  meat  for  breading  half  an 
hour  before  cooking,  or  when?"  demanded  Fairy, 
'from  the  dining-room  door. 

"What? — Oh! — Fifteen  minutes  before.  Don't 
forget  to  salt  and  pepper  the  crumbs,  Fairy." 

"Perhaps  some  time  your  father  will  let  you  and 
a  couple  of  the  others  come  to  Des  Moines  with  me 
in  the  car.  You  would  enjoy  a  few  days  there,  I 
know.  I  live  with  *ny  aunt,  a  dear,  motherly  little 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      283 

old  soul.  She  will  adore  you,  Prudence,  and  you 
will  like  her,  too.  Would  your  father  let  you  spend 
a  week?  We  can  easily  drive  back  and  forth  in 
the  car." 

"Maybe  he  will, — but  who  will  keep  the  parson- 
age while  I  am  away?" 

"Fairy,  to  be  sure.  She  must  be  a  good  fairy 
once  in  a  while.  We  can  take  the  twins  with  us, 
Connie,  too,  if  you  like,  and  then  Fairy  will  only 
have  to  mother  your  father.  Do  you  like  riding  in 
a  car?" 

"Oh,  I  love  it  But  I  have  not  ridden  very  much. 
Willard  Morley  took  me  quite  often  when  he  was 
here,  but  he  is  in  Chicago  now." 

"When's  he  coming  back?"  suspiciously. 

"Prudence,  shall  we  have  tea  or  coffee?"  This 
was  Lark  from  the  doorway.  "Fairy  wants  to 
know." 

"What?— Oh!— Which  do  you  want,  Jerry?" 

"Which  does  your  father  prefer?" 

"He  doesn't  drink  either  except  for  breakfast." 

"I  generally  drink  coffee,  but  I  do  not  eare  much 
for  it,  so  do  not  bother " 

"Coffee,  Lark." 


284     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"When's  that  Morley  chap  coming  back?" 

"I  do  not  know."  And  then,  "He  is  never  com- 
ing back  as  far  as  I  am  concerned." 

Jerrold  relented  promptly.  "You  are  why  he 
went  away,  I  suppose." 

"At  any  rate,  he  is  gone." 

"Did  you  ever  have  a  lover,  Prudence?  A  real 
lover,  I  mean." 

"No,  I  never  did." 

"I'm  awfully  glad  of  that.     I'll " 

"Prudence,  do  you  use  half  milk  and  half  water 
;for  creamed  tomato  soup,  or  all  milk?" 

"What?— Oh!— All  milk,  Connie,  and  tell  Fairy 
not  to  salt  it  until  it  is  entirely  done,  or  it  may 
curdle." 

"What  in  the  world  would  they  ever  do  without 
you,  Prudence?  You  are  the  soul  of  the  parsonage, 
aren't  you  ?" 

"No,  I  am  just  the  cook  and  the  chambermaid," 
she  answered,  laughing.  "But  don't  you  see 
how  hard  it  will  be  for  me  to  go  away?" 

"But  it  isn't  fair !  Vacation  is  coming  now,  and 
Fairy  ought  to  take  a  turn.  What  will  they  do 
when  you  get  married?" 

"I  have  always  said  I  would  not  get  married." 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      285 

"But  don't  you  want  to  get  married, — some 
time?" 

"Oh,  that  isn't  it.  I  just  can't  because  I  must 
take  care  of  the  parsonage,  and  raise  the  girls.  I 
can't." 

"But  you  will,"  he  whispered,  and  his  hand 
touched  hers  for  just  a  second.  Prudence  did  not 
answer.  She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  caught 
in  her  breath  once  more. 

A  little  later  he  said,  "Do  you  mind  if  I  go  up- 
stairs and  talk  to  your  father  a  few  minutes? 
Maybe  I'd  better." 

"But  do  not  stay  very  long,"  she  urged,  and  she 
wondered  why  the  brightness  and  sunshine  vanished 
from  the  room  when  he  went  out.  "First  door  to> 
the  right,"  she  called  after  him. 

Mr.  Starr  arose  to  greet  him,  and  welcomed  him 
to  his  combination  study  and  bedroom  with  great 
friendliness.  But  Jerrold  went  straight  to  the  point. 

"Mr.  Starr,  it's  very  kind  of  you  to  receive  a 
perfect  stranger  as  you  have  me.  But  I  understand 
that  with  a  girl  like  Prudence,  you  will  want  to  be 
careful.  I  can  give  you  the  names  of  several  prom- 
inent men  in  Des  Moines,  Christians,  who  know  me 
well,  and  can  tell  you  all  about  me." 


286  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"It  isn't  necessary.  We  are  parsonage  people, 
and  we  are  accustomed  to  receiving  men  and  women 
as  worthy  of  our  trust,  until  we  find  them  different. 
We  are  glad  to  count  you  among  our  friends." 

"Thank  you,  but — you  see,  Mr.  Starr,  this  is  a 
little  different.  Some  day,  Prudence  and  I  will 
•want  to  be  married,  and  you  will  wish  to  be  sure 
about  me." 

"Does  Prudence  know  about  that?" 

"No,"  with  a  smile,  "we  haven't  got  that  far  yet. 
But  I  am  sure  she  feels  it.  She  hasn't — well,  you 
know  what  I  mean.  She  has  been  asleep,  but  I  be- 
lieve she  is  waking  up  now." 

"Yes,  I  think  so.  Do  you  mind  if  I  ask  you  a 
few  questions?" 

"No,  indeed.     Anything  you  like." 

"Well,  first,  are  you  a  Christian?" 

"Not  the  kind  you  are,  Mr.  Starr.  My  parents 
were  Christians,  but  I've  never  thought  much  about 
it  myself  because  I  was  young  and  full  of  fun.  I 
have  never  been  especially  directed  to  religion.  I 
go  to  church,  and  I  believe  the  Bible, — though  I 
don't  know  much  about  it.  I  seldom  read  it.  But 
I'll  get  busy  now,  if  you  like,  and  really  study  it 
and — try  to  come  around  your  way.  I  know  Pru- 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      287 

idence  would  make  me  do  that."  And  he  smiled 
again. 

"Do  you  drink?" 

"I  did  a  little,  but  I  promised  Prudence  this  morn- 
ing I  would  quit  it.  I  never  got — drunk,  and  I  have 
not  formed  the  habit.  But  sometimes  with  the 
boys,  I  drink  a  little.  But  I  do  not  care  for  it,  and  1 
swore  off  this  morning. — I  smoke,  too, — not  ciga- 
rettes, of  course.  Prudence  knows  it,  but  she  did 
not  make  me  promise  to  quit  that?"  His  voice  was 
raised,  inquiringly. 

"Would  you  have  promised,  if  she  had  asked 
it?"  This  was  sheer  curiosity. 

"I  suppose  I  would."  He  flushed  a  little.  "I 
know  I  was  pretty  hard  hit,  and  it  was  such  a  new 
experience  that  I  would  have  promised  anything 
she  asked.  But  I  like  smoking,  and — I  don't  think 
it  is  wicked." 

"Never  mind  the  smoking.  I  only  asked  that 
question  out  of  curiosity.  We're  not  as  strait-laced 
as  we  might  be  perhaps.  The  only  things  I  would 
really  object  to,  are  those  things  that  might  serious- 
ly menace  your  happiness,  yours  and  hers,  if  the 
time  does  come.  But  the  next  question, — can  you 
pass  a  strict  physical  examination?" 


288  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Yes,  I  can.  I'll  go  with  you  to  your  physician 
to-night  if  you  like.  I'm  all  right  physically,  I 
know." 

"Tell  me  about  your  relations  with  your  mother 
when  she  was  living." 

"She  has  been  dead  four  years."  Jerrold  spoke 
with  some  emotion.  "We  were  great  chums,  though 
her  health  was  always  poor.  I  wrote  her  three 
times  a  week  when  I  was  away  from  home,  and 
she  wrote  me  a  note  every  day.  When  I  was  in 
school,  I  spent  all  my  vacations  at  home  to  be  with 
her.  And  I  never  went  abroad  until  after  her  death 
because  she  did  not  like  the  idea  of  my  going  so  far 
from  her." 

"Jerrold,  my  boy,  I  do  not  want  to  seem  too  se- 
vere, but — tell  me,  has  there  been  anything  in  your 
life,  about  women,  that  could  come  out  and  hurt 
Prudence  later  on?" 

Jerrold  hesitated.  "Mr.  Starr,  I  have  been  young, 
and  headstrong,  and  impulsive.  I  have  done  some 
things  I  wish  now  I  hadn't.  But  I  believe  there  is 
nothing  that  I  could  not  explain  to  Prudence  so 
she  would  understand.  If  I  had  thought  before- 
hand of  a  girl  like  her,  there  are  things  I  would 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      289 

not  have  done.  But  there  is  nothing,  I  think,  that 
would  really  hurt,  after  I  had  a  chance  to  talk  it 
over  with  her." 

"All  right  If  you  are  the  man,  God  bless  you. 
I  don't  suppose  you  are  worthy  of  Prudence,  for 
she  is  a  good,  pure-hearted,  unselfish  girl, — there 
could  be  none  better.  But  the  real  point  is  just 
whether  you  will  love  each  other  enough! — I  like 
your  coming  up  here  like  this.  I  think  that  was 
very  decent  and  manly  of  you.  And,  do  you  mind 
if  I  just  suggest  that  you  go  a  little  slow  with  Pru- 
dence ?  Remember  that  she  has  been  sound  asleep, 
until  this  morning.  I  do  not  want  her  awakened 
too  rudely." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Jerrold  quickly.  "Shall  I 
go  down  now?  The  girls  have  invited  me  to  stay 
for  supper,  and  Prudence  says  I  am  to  come  back 
to-morrow,  too.  Is  that  all  right?  Remember,  I'll 
be  going  home  on  Monday!" 

"It  is  all  right,  certainly.  Spend  as  much  time 
here  as  you  like.  You  will  either  get  worse,  or  get 
cured,  and — whichever  it  is,  you've  got  to  have  a 
chance.  I  like  you,  Jerrold.  Prudence  judges  by 
instinct,  but  it  does  not  often  fail  her." 


290     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Prudence  heard  him  running  down  the  stairs  boy- 
ishly, and  when  he  came  in,  before  she  could  speak, 
he  whispered,  "Shut  your  eyes  tight,  Prudence. 
And  do  not  scold  me,  for  I  can't  help  it."  Then 
he  put  his  hands  over  hers,  and  kissed  her  on  the 
lips.  They  were  both  breathless  after  that.  Pru- 
dence lifted  her  lashes  slowly,  and  gazed  at  him 
seriously.  It  was  she  who  spoke  first. 

"I  was  never  really  kissed  before,"  she  whis- 
pered, "not  really." 

Then  they  sat  in  silence  until  Fairy  announced 
that  supper  was  ready.  "But  I  won't  promise  it  is 
eatable,"  she  assured  them,  laughing. 

"I  wish  I  could  go  to  the  table,  too,"  said  Pru- 
dence, looking  at  her  father  wistfully.  "I  could 
lie  on  the  old  lounge  out  there." 

"And  have  your  supper  on  a  tray,  of  course. 
Can  you  carry  her,  father?" 

"I  can!"  volunteered  Jerrold  promptly.  "I  have 
done  it." 

"I  think  between  us  we  can  manage.  We'll  try 
it."  And  Prudence  heroically  endured  the  pain  of 
being  moved,  for  the  sake  of  seeing  Jerrold  at  the 
table  with  her  parsonage  family.  For  to  her  sur- 


ROUSED  FROM  HER  SLUMBER      291 

prise,  she  realized  that  she  could  not  bear  that  even 
a  few  minutes  should  pass,  when  she  could  not  see 
the  manly  young  face  with  the  boyish  mouth  and 
the  tender  eyes! 

Prudence,  at  last,  was  aroused  from  her  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SHE  ORDERS   HER  LIFE 

44TQ|RUDENCE,  are  you  going  to  Aunt  Grace's 

JL  early  in  the  summer,  or  late?"  demanded 
Fairy. 

"Oh,  let's  not  talk  of  that  now.  There's  plenty 
of  time." 

"No,  there  isn't.  School  will  be  out  in  a  week, 
and  Babbie  wants  to  give  a  house  party  and  have 
our  little  bunch  at  his  home  for  a  few  days 
this  summer.  He  wants  to  set  the  date,  and  I  can't 
tell  him  when  because  I  do  not  know  when  you  are 
going  to  auntie's." 

They  sat  around  the  breakfast  table,  Prudence 
and  Fairy  and  their  father,  talking  of  the  summer. 
The  twins  and  Connie  had  long  since  excused  them- 
selves, and  even  now  could  be  heard  shouting  gaily 
in  the  field  beyond  the  old  red  barn. 

Prudence  looked  restlessly  from  one  to  the  other, 
when  her  sister  insisted  upon  an  answer. 
292 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  293 

"Why,"  she  began,  "I've  about  decided  not  to  go 
to  Aunt  Grace's  this  summer." 

Fairy  rapped  on  the  table  with  the  spoon  she  held 
in  her  hand.  "Don't  be  silly!  You  have  to  go. 
You've  never  had  a  vacation  in  your  life,  and  father 
promised  Aunt  Grace  on  his  reputation  as  a  minis- 
ter, didn't  you,  papa?" 

"Yes,  I  promised  all  right." 

"But,  papa !  I  do  not  have  to  go,  do  I  ?  A  whole 
month, — oh,  honestly,  I  do  not  want  to." 

"Why  don't  you  ?  Last  fall  you  were  wild  about 
it.  Don't  you  remember  dreaming " 

"Oh,  but  that  was  last  fall,"  said  Prudence,  smil- 
ing softly,  and  unconsciously  she  lifted  one  hand 
to  where  a  bulky  letter  nestled  inside  her  dress.  "I 
didn't  know  I  was  going  to  sprain  my  ankle,  and 
be  so  useless.  It  may  be  two  weeks  yet  before  I 
can  walk  on  it" 

"What  has  that  got  to  do  with  it?" 

"Do  you  really  prefer  to  stay  at  home,  Pru- 
dence?" queried  her  father.  "The  whole  summer?" 

Prudence  blushed  most  gloriously.  "Oh,  well," 
she  began  slowly.  Then  she  took  the  plunge  reck- 
lessly. "Why,  you  see,  father,  Jerry  lives  with  his 
aunt  in  Des  Moines, — he  told  you  that,  didn't  he? 


294  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

And  they  have  quite  a  big  house,  and — he  wants 
to  take  me  and  the  twinnies  to  Des  Moines  in  the 
car  for  a  week  or  ten  days.  And  Fairy  will  take 
care  of  you  and  Connie.  And — if  I  can  do  that — 
I  do  not  want  any  more  vacation.  I  couldn't  bear 
to  stay  at  auntie's  a  whole  month,  away  from  you 
and  the  parsonage."  She  felt  very  guilty,  for  she 
did  not  add,  as  she  was  thinking,  "Besides,  Jerry  is 
coming  every  two  weeks,  and  if  I  were  away,  we 
would  miss  a  visit !" 

Fairy  laughed  in  an  irritating,  suggestive  way, 
but  Mr.  Starr  only  nodded. 

"I  am  sure  you  will  not  mind  that,  will  you 
father?  His  aunt  must  be  a  perfectly  good  and 
nice  woman,  and — such  a  long  drive  in  the  auto, 
and — to  see  all  over  Des  Moines."  But  Prudence 
paused  guiltily,  for  she  did  not  add,  "With  Jerry !" 
although  the  words  were  singing  in  her  heart. 

"That  will  be  very  nice  indeed,  and  of  course  I 
do  not  object.  It  will  be  a  forty  years'  delight  and 
wonder  to  the  twins!  Yes,  I  will  be  glad  to  have 
you  go.  But  you  can  still  have  your  month  at 
Grace's  if  you  wish." 

"But  I  do  not  wish,"  protested  Prudence  prompt- 
ly. "Honestly,  father,  I'll  write  her  the  sweetest 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  295 

kind  of  a  letter,  but — oh,  please  do  not  make  me 
go!" 

"Of  course,  we  won't  make  you  go,  you  goose," 
said  Fairy,  "but  I  think  you  are  very  foolish." 

"And  you  can  go,  Fairy,"  cried  Prudence  hos- 
pitably. "Aunt  Grace  loves  you  so,  and  you've 
worked  so  hard  all  year,  and,— oh,  yes,  it  will  be 
just  the  thing  for  you."  Prudence  wished  she 
might  add,  "And  that  will  let  me  out,"  but  she 
hardly  dare  say  it. 

"Well,  when  does  your  Des  Moines  tour  come 
off?  I  must  know,  so  I  can  tell  Babbie  about  the 
house  party." 

"Let  Babbie  choose  his  own  date.  Jerry  says  we 
shall  go  whenever  I  say — I  mean  whenever  you  say, 
father, — and  we  can  decide  later  on.  Give  Babbie 
first  choice,  by  all  means." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  Prudence's  golden? 
summer.  She  was  not  given  to  self -analysis.  She 
did  what  seemed  good  to  her  always, — she  did  not 
delve  down  below  the  surface  for  reasons  why  and 
wherefore.  She  hadn't  the  time.  She  took  things 
as  they  came.  She  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
sharing  with  the  parsonage  family  even  the  least 
ardent  and  most  prosaic  cf  Jerrold's  letters. 


296  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

But  she  never  asked  herself  the  reason.  It  seemed 
a  positive  sacrilege  to  leave  his  warm,  life-pulsing 
letters  up-stairs  in  a  bureau  drawer.  It  was  only 
natural  and  right  to  carry  them  in  her  dress,  and 
to  sleep  with  them  under  her  pillow.  But  Prudence 
did  not  wonder  why.  The  days  when  Jerry  came 
were  tremulously  happy  ones  for  her, — she  was  all 
aquiver  when  she  heard  him  swinging  briskly  up 
the  ramshackle  parsonage  walk,  and  her  breath  was 
suffocatingly  hot  But  she  took  it  as  a  matter  of 
course.  The  nights  when  Jerry  slept  in  the  little 
spare  bedroom  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  Prudence 
lay  awake,  staring  joyously  into  the  darkness,  hop- 
ing Jerry  was  sound  asleep  and  comfortable.  But 
she  never  asked  herself  why  she  could  not  sleep! 
She  knew  that  Jerry's  voice  was  the  sweet- 
est voice  in  the  world.  She  knew  that  his 
eyes  were  the  softest  and  brightest  and  the 
most  tender.  She  knew  that  his  hands  had 
a  thrilling  touch  quite  different  from  the  touch  of 
ordinary,  less  dear  hands.  She  knew  that  his  smile 
lifted  her  into  a  delirium  of  delight,  and  that  even 
the  thought  of  sorrow  coming  to  him  brought  sting- 
ing tears  to  her  eyes.  But  why?  Ah,  Prudence 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  297 

never  thought  of  that.  She  just  lived  in  the  sweet 
ecstatic  dream  of  the  summer,  and  was  well  and 
richly  content. 

So  the  vacation  passed,  and  Indian  summer  came. 
And  the  girls  went  back  to  their  studies  once  more, 
reluctantly,  yet  unaccountably  glad  even  in  their 
reluctance.  It  is  always  that  way  with  students, — • 
real  students.  They  regret  the  passing  of  vacation 
days,  but  the  thought  of  "going  back  to  school"1 
has  its  own  tingling  joys  of  anticipation. 

It  was  Saturday  evening.  The  early  supper  at 
the  parsonage  was  over,  the  twins  had  washed  the 
dishes,  and  still  the  daylight  lingered.  Prudence 
and  Jerry  sat  side  by  side,  and  closely,  on  the  front 
porch,  talking  in  whispers.  Fairy  had  gone  for  a 
stroll  with  the  still  faithful  Babbie.  Connie  and  the 
twins  had  evidently  vanished.  Ah — not  quite  that! 
Carol  and  Lark  came  swiftly  around  the  corner  of 
the  parsonage. 

"Good  evening,"  said  Lark  politely,  and  Pru- 
dence sat  up  abruptly.  The  twins  never  wasted  po- 
liteness! They  wanted  something. 

"Do  you  mind  if  we  take  Jerry  around  by  the 
woodshed  for  a  few  minutes,  Prue  ?" 


298  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"I'll  come  along,"  said  Prudence,  rising. 

"Oh,  no,"  protested  Lark,  "we  do  not  want 
you, — just  Jerry,  and  only  for  a  little  while." 

Prudence  sniffed  suspiciously.  "What  are  you 
going  to  do  to  him?"  she  demanded. 

"We  won't  hurt  him,"  grinned  Carol  impishly. 
"We  had  intended  to  tie  him  to  a  stake  and  burn 
him  alive.  But  since  you  have  interceded  on  his 
behalf,  we'll  let  him  off  with  a  simple  scalping." 

"Maybe  he's  afraid  to  come,"  said  Lark,  "for 
there  are  two  of  us,  and  we  are  mighty  men  of 
valor." 

"That's  all  right,"  Prudence  answered  defensive- 
ly. "I'd  sooner  face  a  tribe  of  wild  Indians  any  day 
than  you  twins  when  you  are  mischief-bent." 

"Oh,  we  just  want  to  use  him  a  few  minutes," 
said  Carol  impatiently.  "Upon  our  honor,  as  Chris- 
tian gentlemen,  we  promise  not  to  hurt  a  hair  of 
his  head." 

"Oh,  come  along,  and  cut  out  the  comedy,"  Jerry 
broke  in,  laughing.  "I'll  be  back  in  two  minutes, 
Prue.  They  probably  want  me  to  shoo  a  chicken 
out  of  their  way.  Or  maybe  the  cat  has  been  chas- 
ing them." 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  299 

Once  safely  around  the  corner,  the  twins  changed 
their  tactics. 

"We  knew  you  weren't  afraid,"  said  Lark  artis- 
tically, "we  were  just  teasing  Prudence.  We  know 
we  couldn't  hurt  you." 

"Of  course,"  emphasized  Carol.  "We  want  to 
ask  a  favor  of  you,  that's  all.  It's  something  we 
can't  do  ourselves,  but  we  knew  you  could  do  it, 
all  right." 

Jerry  perceived  the  drift  of  this  argument.  "I 
see!  I'm  paid  in  advance  for  my  service.  What's 
the  job?" 

Then  the  twins  led  him  to  the  woodshed.  This 
woodshed  stood  about  twenty  feet  from  the  back 
door  of  the  parsonage,  and  was  nine  feet  high  in 
front,  the  roof  sloping  down  at  the  back.  Close 
beside  the  shed  grew  a  tall  and  luxuriant  maple. 
The  lower  limbs  had  been  chopped  off,  and  the 
trunk  rose  clear  to  a  height  of  nearly  twelve  feet 
before  the  massive  limbs  branched  out.  The  twins 
had  discovered  that  by  climbing  gingerly  on  the 
rotten  roof  of  the  woodshed,  followed  by  almost 
superhuman  scrambling  and  scratching,  they  could 
get  up  into  the  leafy  secrecy  of  the  grand  old  maple. 


300     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

More  than  this,  up  high  in  the  tree  they  found  a 
delightful  arrangement  of  branches  that  seemed 
positively  made  for  them.  These  branches  must  be 
utilized,  and  it  was  in  the  act  of  utilizing  them  that 
they  called  upon  their  sister's  friend  for  help. 

"Do  you  see  this  board  ?"  began  Lark,  exhibiting 
with  some  pride  a  solid  board  about  two  feet  in 
length. 

"My  eyesight  is  quite  unimpaired,"  answered 
Jerry,  for  he  knew  his  twins. 

"Well,  we  found  this  over  by  the  Avery  barn. 
They  have  a  big  scrap  pile  out  there.  We  couldn't 
find  anything  around  here  that  would  suit,  so  we 
looked  over  there.  It's  just  a  pile  of  rubbish,  and 
we  knew  they  wouldn't  mind." 

"Else  you  would  not  have  taken  it,  eh?  Any- 
thing like  apples,  for  instance,  is  quite  under  the 
^ban." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  smiled  Lark.  "We're  too  old  to 
steal  apples." 

"Of  course,"  added  Carol.  "When  we  need  our 
neighbor's  apples,  we  send  Connie.  And  get  nicely 
punished  for  it,  too,  I  promise  you." 

"Quite  so!     And  this  exquisite  board?" 

"Well,  we've  found  a  perfectly  gorgeous  place 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  301 

up  in  the  old  tree  where  we  can  make  a  seat.  It's 
quite  a  ways  out  from  the  trunk,  and  when  the  wind 
blows  it  swings  splendidly.  But  it  isn't  very  com- 
fortable sitting  on  a  thin  limb,  and  so  we  want  a 
seat.  It's  a  fine  place,  I  tell  you.  We  thought  you 
could  nail  this  securely  on  to  the  limbs, — there  are 
two  right  near  each  other,  evidently  put  there  on 
purpose  for  us.  See  what  dandy  big  nails  we 
have!" 

"From  the  Avery's  woodshed,  I  suppose,"  he  sug- 
gested, smiling  again. 

"Oh,  they  are  quite  rusty.  We  found  them  in  a 
sack  in  an  old  barrel.  It  was  in  the  scrap  heap. 
We're  very  good  friends  with  the  Averys,  very 
good,  indeed,"  she  continued  hastily.  "They  allow 
us  to  rummage  around  at  will — in  the  barn." 

"And  see  this  rope,"  cried  Carol.  "Isn't  it  a 
dandy?" 

"Ah !  The  Avery  barn  must  be  inexhaustible  in 
its  resources." 

"How  suspicious  you  are,  Jerry,"  mourned  Lark. 

"I  wish  we  were  that  way,  instead  of  innocent 
and  bland  and  trustful.  Maybe  we  would  get  rich, 
too.  This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  really  understood 
how  you  came  to  be  a  success  in  business." 


302  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"But  you  are  quite  wrong  this  time,"  said  Lark 
seriously.  "Old  Mr.  Avery  gave  me  this  rope." 

"Yes,  he  did !  Lark  told  him  she  was  looking  for 
a  rope  just  exactly  like  this  one,  and  then  he  gave 
it  to  her.  He  caught  the  idea  of  philanthropy  right 
away.  He's  a  very  nice  old  gentleman,  I  tell  you. 
He's  so  trusting  and  unsuspicious.  I'm  very  fond 
of  people  like  that." 

"We  thought  when  you  had  the  board  nicely 
nailed  on,  you  might  rope  it  securely  to  the  limbs 
above.  They  are  in  very  good  position,  and  that 
will  make  it  absolutely  safe.  Do  you  suppose  you 
tan  do  that,  Jerry?  Do  you  get  seasick  when  you 
climb  high?" 

"Oh,  no,  high  altitudes  never  make  me  seasick. 
I've  a  very  good  head  for  such  purposes." 

"Then  suppose  you  get  busy  before  it  grows  dark. 
We're  in  a  great  hurry.  And  we  do  not  want  Con- 
nie to  catch  us  putting  it  up.  It'll  be  such  fun  to 
sit  up  there  and  swing  when  the  wind  blows,  and 
have  poor  Connie  down  beneath  wondering  how  we 
manage  to  stick  on.  She  can't  see  the  seat  from  the 
ground.  Won't  it  be  a  good  joke  on  her?" 

"Oh,  very, — yes,  indeed. — Well,  let's  begin. — 
Now,  observe !  I  will  just  loop  this  end  of  the  rope 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  303 

lightly  about  my — er — middle.  The  other  end  will 
dangle  on  the  ground  to  be  drawn  up  at  will.  Ob- 
serve also  that  I  bestow  the  good  but  rusty  nails 
in  this  pocket,  and  the  hammer  here.  Then  with 
the  admirable  board  beneath  my  arm,  I  mount  to 
the  heights  of —  Say,  twins,  didn't  I  see  an  old 
buggy  seat  out  in  the  barn  to-day?  Seems  to 
me " 

"Oh,  Jerry!"  The  twins  fairly  smothered  him. 
"Oh,  you  darling.  You  are  the  nicest  old  thing. — 
Now  we  can  understand  why  Prudence  seems  to 
like  you.  We  never  once  thought  of  the  old  buggy 
seat!  Oh,  Jerry!" 

Then  they  hastily  brought  the  discarded  seat 
from  the  barn,  and  with  the  help  of  Jerry  it  was 
shoved  up  on  the  woodshed.  From  there,  he  lifted 
it  to  the  lowest  limb  of  the  old  maple,  and  a  second 
later  he  was  up  himself.  Then  it  was  lifted  again, 
and  again  he  followed, — up,  and  up,  and  up, — the 
loose  end  of  the  donated  rope  trailing  loose  on  the 
ground  below.  The  twins  promptly, — as  promptly 
as  possible,  that  is, — followed  him  into  the  tree. 

"Oh,  yes,  we'll  come  along.  We're  used  to  climb- 
ing and  we're  very  agile.  And  you  will  need  us  to 
hold  things  steady  while  you  hammer." 


304  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

And  Jerry  smiled  as  he  heard  the  faithful  twins, 
with  much  grunting  and  an  occasional  groan,  fol- 
lowing in  his  wake. 

It  was  a  delightful  location,  as  they  had  said. 
So  heavy  was  the  leafy  screen  that  only  by  lifting 
a  branch  here  or  there,  could  they  see  through  it. 
The  big  seat  fitted  nicely  on  the  two  limbs,  and 
Jerry  fastened  it  with  the  rusty  nails.  The  twins 
were  jubilant,  and  loud  in  their  praises  of  his  skill 
and  courage. 

"Oh,  Jerry,"  exclaimed  Carol,  with  deep  satis- 
faction, "it's  such  a  blessing  to  discover  something 
really  nice  about  you  after  all  these  months !" 

"Now,  we'll  just " 

"Hush!"  hissed  Lark.  "Here  comes  Connie. 
Hold  your  breath,  Jerry,  and  don't  budge." 

"Isn't  she  in  on  this?"  he  whispered.  He  could 
hear  Connie  making  weird  noises  as  she  came 
around  the  house  from  the  front.  She  was 
learning  to  whistle,  and  the  effect  was  ghastly  in 
the  extreme.  Connie's  mouth  had  not  been  de- 
signed for  whistling. 

"Sh!  She's  the  band  of  dark-browed  gypsies 
jtrying  to  steal  my  lovely  wife." 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  305 

"I'm  the  lovely  wife,"  interrupted  Carol  com- 
placently. 

"But  Connie  does  not  know  about  it.  She  is 
so  religious  she  won't  be  any  of  the  villain  parts. 
When  we  want  her  to  be  anything  real  low-down, 
we  have  to  do  it  on  the  sly.  She  would  no  more 
consent  to  a  band  of  dark-browed  gypsies  than  she 
would " 

Connie  came  around  the  corner  of  the  parsonage, 
out  the  back  walk  beneath  the  maple.  Then  she 
gave  a  gleeful  scream.  Right  before  her  lay  a  beau- 
tiful heavy  rope.  Connie  had  been  yearning  for  a 
good  rope  to  make  a  swing.  Here  it  lay,  at  her 
very  feet,  plainly  a  gift  of  the  gods.  She  did  not 
wait  to  see  where  the  other  end  of  the  rope  was. 
She  just  grabbed  what  she  saw  before  her,  and 
started  violently  back  around  the  house  with  it  yell- 
ing, "Prudence!  Look  at  my  rope!" 

Prudence  rushed  around  the  parsonage.  The 
twins  shrieked  wildly,  as  there  was  a  terrific  tug 
and  heave  of  the  limb  beside  them,  and  then — a 
crashing  of  branches  and  leaves.  Jerry  was  gone! 

It  did  look  horrible,  from  above  as  well  as  be- 
low. But  Jerry,  when  he  felt  the  first  light  twinge 


306  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

as  Connie  lifted  the  rope,  foresaw  what  was  com- 
ing and  was  ready  for  it.  As  he  went  down,  he 
grabbed  a  firm  hold  on  the  branch  on  which  he  had 
stood,  then  he  dropped  to  the  next,  and  held  again. 
On  the  lowest  limb  he  really  clung  for  fifteen  sec- 
onds, and  took  in  his  bearings.  Connie  had  dropped 
the  rope  when  the  twins  screamed,  so  he  had  noth- 
ing more  to  fear  from  her.  He  saw  Prudence, 
white,  with  wild  eyes,  both  arms  stretched  out  to- 
ward him. 

"O.  K.,  Prue,"  he  called,  and  then  he  dropped. 
He  landed  on  his  feet,  a  little  jolted,  but  none  the 
worse  for  his  fall. 

He  ran  at  once  to  Prudence.  "I'm  all  right,"  he 
pried,  really  alarmed  by  the  white  horror  in  her 
face.  "Prudence!  Prudence!"  Then  her  arms 
dropped,  and  with  a  brave  but  feeble  smile,  she 
swayed  a  little.  Jerry  took  her  in  his  arms. 
"Sweetheart!"  he  whispered.  "Little  sweetheart! 
Do — do  you  love  me  so  much,  my  dearest?" 

Prudence  raised  her  hands  to  his  face,  and  looked 
intensely  into  his  eyes,  all  the  sweet  loving  soul 
of  her  shining  in  her  own.  And  Jerry  kissed  her. 

The  twins  scrambled  down  from  the  maple, 
speechless  and  cold  with  terror, — and  saw  Prudence 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  307 

and  Jerry !  Then  they  saw  Connie,  staring  at  them 
with  interest  and  amusement. 

"I  think  we'd  better  go  to  bed,  all  three  of  us," 
declared  Lark  sturdily.  And  they  set  off  heroically 
around  the  house.  But  at  the  corner  Carol  turned. 

"Take  my  advice  and  go  into  the  woodshed,"  she 
said,  "for  all  the  Averys  are  looking  out  of  their 
windows." 

Prudence  did  not  hear,  but  he  drew  her  swiftly 
into  the  woodshed.  Now  a  woodshed  is  a  hideously 
unromantic  sort  of  place.  And  there  was  nothing 
for  Prudence  to  sit  on,  that  Jerry  might  kneel  at 
her  feet.  So  they  dispensed  with  formalities,  and 
he  held  her  in  his  arms  for  a  long  time,  and  kissed 
her  often,  and  whispered  sweet  meaningless  words 
that  thrilled  her  as  she  listened.  It  may  not  have 
been  comfortable,  but  it  was  evidently  endurable, 
for  it  is  a  fact  that  they  did  not  leave  that  wood- 
shed for  over  an  hour.  Then  they  betook  them- 
selves to  the  darkest  corner  of  the  side  porch, — 
and  history  repeated  itself  once  more! 

At  twelve,  Jerry  went  up-stairs  to  bed,  his  lips 
tingling  with  the  fervent  tenderness  of  her  parting 
kiss.  At  one  o'clock,  he  stood  at  his  window,  look- 
ing soberly  out  into  the  moonlit  parsonage  yard. 


308  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"She  is  an  angel,  a  pure,  sweet,  unselfish  little 
angel,"  he  whispered,  and  his  voice  was  broken,  and 
his  eyes  were  wet,  "and  she  is  going  to  be  my  wife! 
Oh,  God,  teach  me  how  to  be  good  to  her,  and  help 
me  make  her  as  happy  as  she  deserves." 

At  two  o'clock  he  lay  on  his  bed,  staring  into  the 
darkness,  thinking  again  the  soft  shy  words  she  had 
whispered  to  him.  And  he  flung  his  arms  out  to- 
ward his  closed  door,  wanting  her.  At  three  o'clock 
he  dropped  lightly  asleep  and  dreamed  of  her.  With 
the  first  pale  streaks  of  daylight  stealing  into  his 
room,  he  awoke.  It  was  after  four  o'clock.  A 
little  later, — just  a  few  minutes  later, — he  heard  a 
light  tap  on  his  door.  It  came  again,  and  he 
bounded  out  of  bed. 

"Prudence!     Is  anything  wrong?" 

"Hush,  Jerry,  not  so  loud !"  And  what  a  strange 
and  weary  voice.  "Come  down-stairs,  will  you  ?  I 
want  to  tell  you  something.  I'll  wait  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs.  Be  quiet, — do  not  wake  father  and  the 
girls.  Will  you  be  down  soon?" 

"In  two  minutes!" 

And  in  two  minutes  he  was  down,  agonizingly 
anxious,  knowing  that  something  was  wrong.  Pru- 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  309 

dence  was  waiting  for  him,  and  as  he  reached  the 
bottom  step  she  clutched  his  hands  desperately. 

"Jerry,"  she  whispered,  "I — forgive  me — I  hon- 
estly—  Oh,  I  didn't  think  what  I  was  saying 
last  night.  You  were  so  dear,  and  I  was  so  happy, 
and  for  a  while  I  really  believed  we  could  belong 
to  each  other.  But  I  can't,  you  know.  I've  prom- 
ised papa  and  the  girls  a  dozen  times  that  I  would 
never  marry.  Don't  you  see  how  it  is?  I  must 
take  it  back." 

Jerry  smiled  a  little,  it  must  be  admitted.  This 
was  so  like  his  conscientious  little  Prudence! 

"Dearest,"  he  said  gently,  "you  have  said  that 
because  you  were  not  awake.  You  did  not  love. 
But  you  are  awake  now.  You  love  me.  Your 
father  would  never  allow  you  to  sacrifice  yourself 
like  that.  The  girls  would  not  hear  of  it.  They 
want  you  to  be  happy.  And  you  can't  be  happy 
without  me,  can  you?" 

Suddenly  she  crushed  close  to  him.  "Oh,  Jerry," 
she  sobbed,  "I  will  never  be  happy  again,  I  know. 
But — it  is  right  for  me  to  stay  here,  and  be  the 
mother  in  the  parsonage.  It  is  wicked  of  me  to 
want  you  more  than  all  of  them.  Don't  you  see  it 


3io   PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

is?  They  haven't  any  mother.  They  haven't  any 
one  but  me.  Of  course,  they  would  not  allow  it, 
but  they  will  not  know  anything  about  it.  I  must 
do  it  myself.  And  father  especially  must  never 
know.  I  want  you  to  go  away  this  morning  before 
breakfast,  and — never  come  again." 

She  clung  to  him  as  she  said  this,  but  her  voice 
did  not  falter.  "And  you  must  not  write  to  me 
any  more.  For,  oh,  Jerry,  if  I  see  you  again  I  can 
never  let  you  go,  I  know  it.  Will  you  do  this  for 
me?" 

"You've  been  up  all  night,  haven't  you,  dearest  ?" 

"Yes, — I  remembered,  and  then  I  couldn't  sleep." 

"What  have  you  been  doing  all  night?  It  is 
morning  now." 

"I  walked  up  and  down  the  floor,  and  pounded 
my  hands  together,"  she  admitted,  with  a  mourn- 
ful smile. 

"You  are  nervous  and  excited,"  he  said  tenderly. 
"Let's  wait  until  after  breakfast.  Then  we'll  talk 
it  all  over  with  your  father,  and  it  shall  be  as  he 
says.  Won't  that  be  better  ?" 

"Oh,  no.  For  father  will  say  whatever  he  thinks 
will  make  me  happy.  He  must  not  know  a  thing 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  LIFE  311 

about  it.  Promise,  Jerry,  that  you  will  never  tell 
him  one  word." 

"I  promise,  of  course,  Prudence.  I  will  let  you 
tell  him." 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "He  will  never  know. 
Oh,  Jerry!  I  can't  bear  to  think  of  never  seeing 
you  again,  and  never  getting  letters  from  you, 
and —  It  seems  to  kill  me  inside,  just  the  thought 
of  it." 

"Sit  down  here  in  my  lap.  Put  your  head  on  my 
shoulder,  like  that.  Let  me  rub  your  face  a  little. 
You're  feverish.  You  are  sick.  Go  to  bed,  won't 
you,  sweetheart?  We  can  settle  this  later  on." 

"You  must  go  right  away,  or  I  can  not  let  you 
go  at  all  1" 

"Do  you  mean  you  want  me  to  get  my  things, 
and  go  right  now?" 

"Yes."  She  buried  her  face  in  his  shoulder.  "If 
— if  you  stay  in  your  room  until  breakfast  time,  I 
will  lock  you  in,  so  you  can  net  leave  me  again.  I 
know  it.  I  am  crazy  to-day." 

"Don't  you  think  you  owe  me  something1,  as  well 
as  your  father  and  sisters?  Didn't  God  bring  us 
together,  and  make  us  love  each  other?  Don't  you 


312  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

think  He  intended  us  for  each  other?  Do  you  wish 
you  had  never  met  me  ?" 

"Jerry!" 

"Then,  sweetheart,  be  reasonable.  Your  father 
loved  your  mother,  and  married  her.  That  is  God's 
plan  for  all  of  us.  You  have  been  a  wonderfully 
brave  and  sweet  daughter  and  sister,  I  know.  But 
surely  Fairy  is  old  enough  to  take  your  place 
now." 

"Fairy's  going  to  be  a  professor,  and — the  girls 
do  not  mind  her  very  well.  And  she  isn't  as  much 
comfort  to  father  as  I  am. — It's  just  because  I 
am  most  like  mother,  you  see.  But  anyhow,  I  prom- 
ised. I  can't  leave  them." 

"Your  father  expects  you  to  marry,  and  to  marry 
me.  I  told  him  about  it  myself,  long  ago.  And  he 
was  perfectly  willing.  He  didn't  say  a  word 
against  it" 

"Of  course  he  wouldn't.  That's  just  like  father. 
But  still,  I  promised.  And  what  would  the  girls 
say  if  I  should  go  back  on  them?  They  have  trusted 
me,  always.  If  I  fail  them,  will  they  ever 
trtwt  anybody  else?  If  you  love  me,  Jerry,  please 
g«,  and  stay  away."  But  her  arm  tightened  about 
his  neck.  "I'll  wait  here  until  you  get  your  things, 


SHE  ORDERS  HER  OFE  313 

and  we  can — say  good-by.  And  don't  forget  your 
promise." 

"Oh,  very  well,  Prudence,"  he  answered,  half 
irritably,  "if  you  insist  on  ordering  me  away  from 
the  house  like  this,  I  can  only  go.  But " 

"Let's  not  talk  any  more  about  it,  Jerry.  Please. 
I'll  wait  until  you  come  down." 

When  he  came  down  a  little  later,  with  his  suit* 
case,  his  face  was  white  and  strained. 

She  put  her  arms  around  his  neck.  "Jerry,"  she 
whispered,  "I  want  to  tejl  you  that  I  love  you  so 
much  that — I  Could  go  away  with  you,  and  never 
see  any  of  them  any  more,  or  papa,  or  the  parson- 
age, and  still  feel  rich,  if  I  just  had  you!  You — 
everything  in  me  seems  to  be  all  yours.  I — love 
you." 

Her  tremulous  lips  were  pressed  against  his. 

"Oh,  sweetheart,  this  is  folly,  all  folly.  But  I 
can't  make  you  see  it.  It  is  wrong,  it  is  wickedly 
wrong,  but " 

"But  I  am  all  they  have,  Jerry,  and — I  prom- 
ised." 

"Whenever  you  want  me,  Prudence,  just  send. 
I'll  never  change.  I'll  always  be  just  the  same.  God 
intended  you  for  me,  I  know,  and — I'll  be  waiting." 


314  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Jerry!  Jerry!  Jerry!"  she  whispered  passion- 
ately, sobbing,  quivering  in  his  arms.  It  was  he 
who  drew  away. 

"Good-by,  sweetheart,"  he  said  quietly,  great  pity 
in  his  heart  for  the  girl  who  in  her  desire  to  do  right 
was  doing  such  horrible  wrong.  "Good-by,  sweet- 
heart. Remember,  I  will  be  waiting.  Whenever 
you  send,  I  will  come." 

He  stepped  outside,  and  closed  the  door.  Pru- 
dence stood  motionless,  her  hands  clenched,  until 
she  could  no  longer  hear  his  footsteps.  Then  she 
dropped  on  the  floor,  and  lay  there,  face  down- 
ward, until  she  heard  Fairy  moving  in  her  room 
up-stairs.  Then  she  went  into  the  kitchen  and 
built  the  fire  for  breakfast 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SHE   COMES  TO  GRIEF 

FAIRY  was  one  of  those  buoyant,  warm-blooded 
girls  to  whom  sleep  is  indeed  the  great  re- 
storer. She*  slept  soundly,  sweetly,  dreamlessly. 
And  every  morning  she  ran  down-stairs  so  full  of 
animation  and  life  that  she  seemed  all  atingle  to  her 
finger-tips.  Now  she  stood  in  the  kitchen  door,  tall, 
cheeks  glowing,  eyes  sparkling,  and  smiled  at  her 
sister's  solemn  back. 

"You  are  the  little  mousey,  Prue,"  she  said,  in 
her  full  rich  voice.  "I  didn't  hear  you  come  to  bed 
last  night,  and  I  didn't  hear  you  getting  out  this 
morning.  I  am  an  abominably  solid  sleeper,  am  I 
not  ?  Shall  I  get  the  maple  sirup  for  the  pancakes  ? 
I  wonder  if  Jerry  knows  we  only  use  maple  sirup 
when  he  is  here.  I'm  constantly  expecting  Connie 
to  give  it  away.  Why  am  I  always  so  ravenously 
hungry  in  the  morning?  Goodness  knows  I  eat 
enough —  Why,  what  is  the  matter?"  For  Pru- 
dence had  turned  her  face  toward  her  sister,  and  it 
315 


316     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

was  so  white  and  so  unnatural  that  Fairy  was 
shocked. 

"Prudence!  You  are  sick!  Go  to  bed  and  let 
me  get  breakfast.  Why  didn't  you  call  me?  I'm 
real  angry  at  you,  Prudence  Starr!  Here,  get  out 
of  this,  and  I  will " 

"There's  nothing  the  matter  with  me.  I  had  a 
headache,  and  did  not  sleep,  but  I  am  all  right  now. 
Yes,  bring  the  sirup,  Fairy.  Are  the  girls  up  yet?" 

Fairy  eyed  her  suspiciously.  "Jerry  is  out  un- 
usually early,  too,  isn't  he?  His  door  is  open.  I 
didn't  hear  him  coming  down  so  he  must  have  quite 
outdone  himself  to-day.  He  generally  has  to  be 
called  twice." 

"Jerry  has  gone,  Fairy."  Prudence's  back  was 
presented  to  view  once  more,  and  Prudence  was 
stirring  the  oatmeal  with  vicious  energy.  "He  left 
early  this  morning, — I  suppose  he  is  half-way  to 
Des  Moines  by  now." 

"Oh!"    Fairy's  voice  was  non-committal. 

"Will  you  get  the  sirup  now?" 

"Yes,  of  course. — When  is  he  coming  back?" 

"He  isn't  coming  back.  Please  hurry,  Fairy,  and 
then  call  the  others.  The  oatmeal  is  ready." 

Fairy  went  soberly  down  cellar,  and  brought  up 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  317 

the  golden  sirup.  Then,  ostensibly  to  call  her  sis- 
ters, she  hurried  up  the  stairs. 

"Girls,"  she  began,  carefully  closing  the  door  of 
their  room  behind  her.  "Jerry  has  gone,  and  isn't 
coming  back  any  more.  And  for  goodness'  sake, 
don't  keep  asking  questions  about  it.  Just  eat  your 
breakfast  as  usual,  and  have  a  little  tact." 

"Gone!" 

"Yes." 

"A  lovers'  quarrel,"  suggested  Lark,  and  her  eyes 
glittered  greedily. 

"Nothing  of  the  sort.  And  don't  keep  staring 
at  Prue,  either.  And  do  not  keep  talking  about 
Jerry  all  the  time.  You  mind  me,  or  I  will  tell 
papa." 

"That's  funny,"  said  Carol  thoughtfully.  "We 
left  them  kissing  each  other  like  mad  in  the  back 
yard  last  night, — and  this  morning  he  has  gone  to 
return  no  more.  They  are  crazy." 

"Kissing!  In  the  back  yard!  What  are  you 
talking  about?" 

Carol  explained,  and  Fairy  looked  still  more 
thoughtful  and  perturbed. 

She  opened  the  door,  and  called  out  to  them  in  a 
loud  and  breezy  voice,  "Hurry,  girls,  for  breakfast 


is  ready,  and  there's  no  time  to  waste  in  a  parson- 
age on  Sunday  morning."  Then  she  added  in  a 
whisper,  "And  don't  you  mention  Jerry,  and  don't 
ask  Prudence  what  makes  her  so  pale,  or  you'll 
catch  itl" 

Then  she  went  to  her  father's  door.  "Breakfast 
is  ready,  papa,"  she  called  clearly.  She  turned  the 
knob  softly,  and  peeped  in.  "May  I  iconic  in  a  min- 
ute?" Standing  close  beside  him,  she  told  him  all 
she  knew  of  what  had  happened. 

"Prudence  is  ghastly,  father,  just  ghastly.  And 
she  can't  talk  about  it  yet,  so  be  careful  what  you 
say,  will  you?" 

And  it  was  due  to  Fairy's  kindly  admonitions 
that  the  parsonage  family  took  the  departure  of 
Jerry  so  calmly. 

"Fairy  says  Jerry  took  the  morning  train,"  said 
Mr.  Starr,  as  they  were  passing  the  cream  and  sugar 
for  the  oatmeal.  "That  is  too  bad !  But  it  is  just 
the  worst  of  being  a  business  man, — one  never 
knows  when  one  must  be  up  and  away.  And  of 
course,  one  can  not  neglect  business  interests. — The 
oatmeal  is  unusually  good  this  morning,  Prudence." 
This  was  nothing  short  of  heroic  on  his  part,  for 
her  eyes  upon  her  father's  face  were  so  wide  and 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  319 

dark  that  the  lump  in  his  throat  would  not  stay 
down. 

That  was  the  beginning  of  Prudence's  bitter  win- 
ter, when  the  brightest  sunshine  was  cheerless  and 
dreary,  and  when  even  the  laughter  of  her  sisters 
smote  harshly  upon  her  ears.  She  tried  to  be  as 
always,  but  in  her  eyes  the  wounded  look  lingered, 
and  her  face  grew  so  pale  and  thin  that  her  father 
and  Fairy,  anxiously  watching,  were  filled  with 
grave  concern.  She  remained  almost  constantly  in 
the  parsonage,  reading  very  little,  sitting  most  of 
her  leisure  time  staring  out  the  windows. 

Fairy  had  tried  to  win  her  confidence,  and  had 
failed. 

"You  are  a  darling,  Fairy,  but  I  really  do  not 
want  to  talk  about  it. — Oh,  no,  indeed,  it  is  all  my 
own  fault.  I  told  him  to  go,  and  not  come  again. — 
No,  you  are  wrong,  Fairy,  I  do  not  regret  it.  I 
do  not  want  him  to  come  any  more." 

And  Fairy  worried.  What  in  the  world  had  hap- 
pened to  separate  in  the  morning  these  two  who 
had  been  kissing  so  frankly  in  the  back  yard  the 
evening  before? 

Mr.  Starr,  too,  had  tried.  "Prudence,"  he  said 
gently,  "you  know  very  often  men  do  things  that 


320     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

to  women  seem  wrong  and  wicked.  And  maybe 
they  are !  But  men  and  women  are  different  by  na- 
ture, my  dear,  and  we  must  remember  that.  I  have 
satisfied  myself  that  Jerry  is  good,  and  clean,  and 
manly.  I  do  not  think  you  should  let  any  foolish- 
ness of  his  in  the  past,  come  between  you  now." 

"LYou  are  mistaken,  father.  Jerry  is  all  right, 
and  always  was,  I  am  sure.  It  is  nothing  like  that. 
I  told  him  to  go,  and  not  to  come  again.  That 
is  all." 

"But  if  he  should  come  back  now " 

"It  would  be  just  the  same.  Don't  worry  about 
it,  father.  It's  all  right." 

"Prudence,"  he  said,  more  tenderly,  "we  have 
been  the  closest  of  friends  and  companions,  you  and 
I,  from  the  very  beginning.  Always  you  have 
come  to  me  with  your  troubles  and  worries.  Have 
I  ever  failed  you?  Why,  then,  do  you  go  back  on 
me  now,  when  you  really  need  me?" 

Prudence  patted  his  shoulder  affectionately,  but 
her  eyes  did  not  meet  his.  "I  do  not  really  need 
you  now,  father.  It  is  all  settled,  and  I  am  quite 
satisfied.  Things  are  all  right  with  me  just  as  they 
are." 

Then  he  took  a  serious  step,  without  her  knowl- 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  321 

edge.  He  went  to  Des  Moines,  and  had  a  visit  with 
Jerry.  He  found  him  thinner,  his  face  sterner, 
his  eyes  darker.  When  the  office  boy  announced 
"Mr.  Starr,"  Jerry  ran  quickly  out  to  greet  him. 

"Is  she  all  right?"  he  cried  eagerly,  almost  be- 
fore he  was  within  hailing  distance. 

Mr.  Starr  did  not  mince  matters.  "Jerry,"  he 
said  abruptly,  "did  you  and  Prudence  have  a  quar- 
rel? She  declines  to  tell  me  anything  about  it,  and 
after  the  conversations  you  and  I  have  had,  I  think 
I  have  a  right  to  know  what  has  happened." 

"Does  she  miss  me?  Does  she  seem  sorry  that 

I  am  away?  Does "  His  voice  was  so  boyish 

and  so  eager  there  was  no  mistaking  his  attitude 
toward  Prudence. 

"Look  here,  Jerry,  I  want  to  know.  Why  are 
you  staying  away?" 

"Won't  Prudence  tell  you?" 

"No." 

"Then  I  can  not.  She  made  me  promise  not  to 
tell  you  a  word.  But  it  is  not  my  fault,  Mr.  Starr. 
I  can  tell  you  that.  It  is  nothing  I  have  done  or 
said.  She  sent  me  away  because  she  thinks  it  was 
right  for  her  to  do  so,  and — you  know  Prudence! 
It  is  wrong,  I  know.  I  knew  it  all  the  time.  But 


322     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

I  couldn't  make  her  see  it.  And  she  made  me 
promise  not  to  tell." 

In  the  end  Mr.  Starr  went  back  to  the  parsonage 
no  wiser  than  he  left,  save  that  he  now  knew  that 
Jerry  was  really  not  to  blame,  and  that  he  held  him- 
self ready  to  return  to  her  on  a  moment's  notice. 

The  Ladies  of  the  Methodist  church  were 
puzzled  and  exasperated.  They  went  to  the  par- 
sonage, determined  to  "find  out  what's  what."  But 
when  they  sat  with  Prudence,  and  looked  at  the 
frail,  pathetic  little  figure,  with  the  mournful 
eyes, — "they  could  only  sigh  with  her  and  go  their 
ways. 

The  twins  continued  to  play  in  the  great  maple, 
even  when  the  leaves  were  fallen.  "It's  a  dandy 
place,  I  tell  you,  Prudence,"  cried  Carol.  "Jerry 
didn't  have  time  to  put  up  the  rope  before  Connie 
pulle^  him  down,  but  we've  fixed  it  ourselves,  and 
it  is  simply  grand.  You  can  go  up  and  swing  any 
time  you  like, — unless  your  joints  are  too  stiff !  It's 
a  very  serious  matter  getting  up  there,— for  stiff 
joints,  of  course,  I  mean.  Lark  and  I  get  up  easy 
enough." 

For  a  moment,  Prudence  sat  silent  with  quivering 
lips.  Then  she  burst  out  with  unusual  passion, 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  323 

"Don't  you  ever  dare  climb  up  in  that  tree  again 
as  long  as  you  live,  twins !  Mind  what  I  say !" 

Lark  looked  thoughtfully  out  of  the  window,  and 
Carol  swallowed  hard.  It  was  she  who  said  gently, 
"Why,  of  course,  Prue, — just  as  you  say." 

For  the  first  time,  Prudence  had  dealt  with 
them  harshly  and  unfairly.  They  knew  it. 
There  was  neither  sense  nor  justice  in  her  com- 
mand. But  they  did  not  argue  the  point.  They 
kept  their  eyes  considerately  away  from  her,  and 
buried  themselves  in  Julius  Caesar, — it  must  be  re- 
membered the  twins  are  sophomores  now.  Five 
minutes  later  Prudence  spoke  again,  humbly. 

"I  beg1  you  pardon,  twins, — that  was  a  per- 
fectly idiotic  thing  for  me  to  say.  Of  course,  you 
may  play  in  the  maple  whenever  you  like.  But 
be  careful.  You  couldn't  save  yourselves  in  fall- 
ing as — as  men  can." 

"We  won't  play  there  if  you  want  us  not  to," 
said  Carol  kindly. 

"I  do  want  you  to  play  there,"  she  answered. 
"It's  a  very  nice  place,  and  great  fun,  I  know.  I 
might  try  it  myself  if — my  joints  weren't  so  stiff! 
Now,  go  on  with  your  Latin." 

But  Prudence  did  not  pass  under  the  maple  for 


324     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

many  weeks  without  clenching  her  hands,  and  shud- 
dering. 

The  twins  were  not  satisfied.  They  marveled, 
and  wondered,  and  pondered  over  the  subject  of 
Jerry's  disappearance.  Finally  they  felt  it  was  more 
than  human  flesh  'could  stand.  They  would  ap- 
proach Prudence  on  the  subject  themselves.  But 
they  bided  their  time.  They  must  wait  until  Fairy 
was  safely  out  of  the  house.  Fairy  these  days  had 
an  infuriating  way  of  saying,  "That  will  do,  twins. 
You'd  better  go  and  play  now."  It  enraged  and 
distracted  the  twins  almost  to  the  point  of  commit- 
ting crime. 

They  had  made  several  artistic  moves  already. 
Professor  Duke,  of  their  freshman  biology  class, 
had  written  Carol  a  gay  long  letter.  And  Carol 
was  enthusiastic  about  it.  She  and  Lark  talked 
of  "dear  old  Duck"  for  two  weeks,  almost  without 
pausing  for  sleep. 

"I'm  sure  you  would  fall  in  love  with  him  on 
the  spot,"  Carol  had  said  to  Prudence  suggestively. 

Prudence  had  only  smiled,  evidently  in  sarcasm! 

"Jerry  was  very  nice, — oh,  very  nice, — but  you 
ought  to  see  our  little  Duck !"  Carol  rattled  rashly. 
"I'm  sure  you  wouldn't  regret  Jerry  any  more  if 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  325 

you  could  just  get  hold  of  Duckie.  Of  course,  his 
being  in  New  York  is  an  obstacle,  but  I  could  in- 
troduce you  by  mail." 

"I  do  not  care  for  Ducks,"  said  Prudence. 
"Of  course,  they  look  very  nice  swimming  around 
on  the  water,  but  when  it  comes  to  eating, — I'll  take 
spring  chicken  every  time." 

Carol  did  not  mention  "Duck"  again  for  three 
days. 

But  there  came  a  day  when  Fairy  was  out  in  the 
country.  Connie  had  gone  driving  with  her  father. 
The  moment  had  arrived.  The  twins  had  their 
plan  of  campaign  memorized,  and  they  sauntered 
in  to  Prudence  with  a  nonchalance  that;  was  all  as- 
sumed. 

"Prudence,"  Lark  began,  "we're  writing  a  book." 

"That's  nice,"  said  Prudence.  Conversation  lan- 
guished. The  subject  seemed  exhausted. 

Carol  came  to  the  rescue.  "It's  a  very  nice  book. 
It's  a  love-story,  and  perfectly  thrilling.  Larkie 
does  the  writing,  but  I  criticize  and  offer  sugges- 
tions." 

"That's  kind  of  you." 

A  pause. 

"I'm  going  to  dedicate  it  to  Carol, — To  my  be- 


326  PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

loved  sister,  to  whose  kindness  and  sympathy,  I 
owe  all  that  I  am," — or  something  like  that,"  Lark 
explained  hopefully. 

"How  proud  Carol  will  be!" 

A  long  pause. 

"We're  in  a  very  Critical  place  just  now,  though," 
Lark  seemed  to  be  commencing  at  the  beginning 
once  more.  "We  have  our  heroine  in  a  very  pe- 
culiar situation,  and  we  can't  think  what  to  do  with 
her  next." 

"How  sad." 

Another  pause. 

"We  thought  maybe  you  could  help  us  out." 

"I'm  afraid  not,"  Prudence  smiled  a  little.  "I 
haven't  any  imagination.  Ask  Fairy.  She's  strong 
on  love-stories." 

"Maybe  if  we  explain  the  situation  to  ydtt,  you 
could  give  us  a  suggestion.  It  is  like  this:  The 
young  people  have  had  all  kinds  of  thrilling  ex- 
periences, but  they  are  not  yet  betrothed.  But  they 
are  just  on  the  point  of  getting  there, — and  some- 
thing crops  up  all  of  a  sudden!  The  hero  goes 
dashing  away,  and  returns  no  more.  The  heroine 
lies  upon  her  silken  couch,  weeping,  weeping.  And 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEE  327 

no  one  knows  what  to  do  about  it,  because  no  one 
knows  what  has  happened.  What  do  you  suppose 
could  have  sent  the  lover  away  like  that?" 

"Maybe  he  hasn't  enough  money  for  the  heroine." 

"Oh,  yes, — he's  very  rich.'* 

"Maybe  he  is  already  married." 

"No,  indeed.     He's  a  bachelor." 

"Maybe  he  didn't  love  her,  after  all." 

Here  Carol  chimed  in  helpfully.  "Oh,  yes,  he 
did,  for  we  left  him  kissing  her  all  over  the  back 
yard^  and  he  wouldn't  have  done  that  if  he  hadn't 
loved  her,  you  know." 

Prudence's  eyes  twinkled  a  little,  but  her  smile 
was  sad. 

"Now,  what  would  you  advise  us  to  do?"  in- 
quired Lark  briskly,  feeling  instinctively  that  Carol 
had  explained  too  much. 

Prudence  rose  slowly.  "I  think,"  she  said  very 
gently,  "I  think  I  would  burn  the  book  if  I  were 
you,  and  pay  a  little  more  attention  to  my  studies." 

Then  she  went  up-stairs,  and  Carol  told  Lark 
sympathetically  that  they  did  not  deserve  an  au- 
thoress in  the  parsonage  when  they  didn't  give  her 
any  more  encouragement  than  that! 


328     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

On  the  day  before  Christmas,  an  insured  package 
was  delivered  at  the  parsonage  for  Prudence.  A 
letter  was  with  it,  and  she  read  that  first. 

"My  dearest  little  sweetheart:  I  chose  this  gift 
for  you  long  before  I  had  the  right  to  do  it.  I  was 
keeping  it  until  the  proper  moment.  But  the  mo- 
ment came,  and  went  again.  Still  I  want  you  to 
have  the  gift.  Please  wear  it,  for  my  sake,  for  I 
shall  be  happy  knowing  it  is  where  it  ought  to  be, 
even  though  I  myself  am  banished.  I  love  you, 
Prudence.  Whenever  you  send  for  me,  I  am  ready 
to  come.  Entirely  and  always  yours,  Jerry/' 

AYith  trembling  fingers  she  opened  the  little  pack- 
age. It  contained  a  ring,  with  a  brilliant  diamond 
flashing  myriad  colors  before  her  eyes.  And  Pru- 
dence kissed  it  passionately,  many  times. 

Two  hours  later,  she  went  quietly  down-stairs 
to  where  the  rest  of  the  family  were  decorating  a 
Christmas  tree.  She  showed  the  ring  to  them 
gravely. 

"Jerry  sent  it  to  me,"  she  said.  "Do  you  think 
it  is  all  right  for  me  to  wear  it,  father?" 

A  thrill  of  hopeful  expectancy  ran  through  the 
little  group. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  declared  her  father.    "How  beau- 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  329 

tiful  it  is!  Is  Jerry  coming  to  spend  Christmas 
with  us?" 

"Why,  no,  father, — he  is  not  coming  at  all  any 
more.  I  thought  you  understood  that." 

An  awkward  silence,  and  Carol  came  brightly 
to  the  rescue.  "It  certainly  is  a  beauty !  I  thought 
it  was  very  kind  of  Professor  Duckie  to  send  Lark 
and  me  a  five-pound  box  of  chocolates,  but  of 
course  this  is  ever  so  much  nicer.  Jerry's  a  bird, 
I  say." 

"A  bird!"  mocked  Fairy.     "Such  language." 

Lark  came  to  her  twin's  defense.  "Yes,  a  bird, — 
that's  just  what  he  is." 

Carol  smiled.  "We  saw  him  use  his  wings  when 
Connie  yanked  him  out  of  the  big  maple,  didn't 
we,  Lark?"  Then,  "Did  you  send  him  anything, 
Prue?" 

Prudence  hesitated,  and  answered  without  the 
slightest  accession  of  color,  "Yes,  Carol.  I  had  my 
picture  taken  when  I  was  in  Burlington,  and  sent 
it  to  him." 

"Your  picture!  Oh,  Prudence!  Where  are 
they?  Aren't  you  going  to  give  us  one?" 

"No,  Carol.  I  had  only  one  made, — for  Jerry. 
There  aren't  any  more." 


330     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

"Well,"  sighed  Lark  resignedly,  "it's  a  pretty 
idea  for  my  book,  anyhow." 

From  that  day  on,  Prudence  always  wore  the 
sparkling  ring, — and  the  women  of  the  Methodist 
church  nearly  had  mental  paralysis  marveling  over 
a  man  who  gave  a  diamond  ring,  and  never  came 
a-wooing!  And  a  girl  who  accepted  and  wore  his 
offering,  with  nothing  to  say  for  the  man !  And  it 
was  the  consensus  of  opinion  in  Mount  Mark  that 
modern  lovers  were  mostly  crazy,  anyhow! 

And  springtime  came  again. 

Now  the  twins  were  always  original  in  their 
amusements.  They  never  followed  blindly  after 
the  dictates  of  custom.  When  other  girls  were  play- 
ing dolls,  the  twins  were  a  tribe  of  wild  Indians. 
When  other  girls  were  jumping  the  rope,  the  twins 
were  conducting  a  circus.  And  when  other  girls 
played  "catch"  with  dainty  rubber  balls,  the  twins 
took  unto  themselves  a  big  and  heavy  croquet 
ball, — found  in  the  Avery  woodshed.  To  be  sure, 
it  stung  and  bruised  their  hands.  What  matter? 
At  any  rate,  they  continued  endangering  their  lives 
and  beauties  by  reckless  pitching  of  the  ungainly 
plaything. 

One  Friday  evening  after  school,  they  were  amus- 


SHE  COMES  TO  GRIEF  331 

ing  themselves  on  the  parsonage  lawn  with  this  huge 
ball.  When  their  father  turned  in,  they  ran  up  to 
him  with  a  sporting  proposition. 

"Bet  you  a  nickel,  papa,"  cried  Carol,  "that  you 
can't  throw  this  ball  as  far  as  the  schoolhouse  wood- 
shed!— By  the  way,  will  you  lend  me  a  nickel, 
papa  ?" 

He  took  the  ball,  and  weighed  it  lightly  in  his 
hand.  "I'm  an  anti-betting  society,"  he  declared, 
laughing,  "but  I  very  strongly  believe  it  will  carry 
to  the  schoolhouse  woodshed.  If  it  does  not,  I'll 
give  you  five  cents'  worth  of  candy  to-morrow. 
And  if  it  does,  you  shall  put  an  extra  nickel  in  the 
collection  next  Sunday." 

Then  he  drew  back  his  arm,  and  carefully  sighted 
across  the  lawn.  "I'll  send  it  right  between  the 
corner  of  the  house  and  that  little  cedar,"  he  said, 
and  then,  bending  low,  it  whizzed  from  his  hand. 

Lark  screamed,  and  Carol  sank  fainting  to  the 
ground.  For  an  instant,  Mr.  Starr  himself  stood 
swaying.  Then  he  rushed  across  the  lawn.  For 
Prudence  had  opened  the  front  door,  and  stepped 
quickly  out  on  the  walk  by  the  corner  of  the  house. 
The  heavy  ball  struck  her  on  the  forehead,  and  she 
fell  heavily,  without  a  moan. 


CHAPTER  XV 

FATE  TAKES  CHARGE 

FOUR  hours  Prudence  lay  unconscious,  with 
two  doctors  in  close  attendance.  Fairy,  alert 
but  calm,  was  at  hand  to  give  them  service. 

It  is  a  significant  thing  that  in  bitter  anguish  and 
grief,  Christians  find  comfort  and  peace  in  prayer. 
Outsiders,  as  well  as  Christians,  pray  in  times  of 
danger  and  mental  stress.  But  here  is  the  big  dif- 
ference between  the  prayers  of  Christians  and  the 
prayers  of  "others."  "Others"  pray,  and  pray,  and 
pray  again,  and  continue  still  in  the  agony  and  pas- 
sion of  grief  and  fear.  And  yet  they  pray.  But 
Christians  pray,  and  find  confidence  and  serenity. 
Sorrow  may  remain,  but  anguish  is  stilled. 

Mount  Mark  considered  this  a  unique  parsonage 
family.  Their  liveliness,  their  gaiety,  their  love  of 
fun,  seemed  a  little  inapropos  in  the  setting  of  a 
Methodist  parsonage. 

"They  ain't  sanctimonious  enough  by  half,"  de- 
332 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  333 

clared  old  Harvey  Reel,  the  bus  driver,  "but,  by 
Jings !  I  tell  you  they  are  dandies !" 

But  as  a  matter  of  fact,  every  one  of  the  family, 
from  Connie  up,  had  a  characteristic  parsonage 
heart.  When  they  were  worried,  or  frightened, 
or  grieved,  they  prayed.  Fairy  passing  up  the  stairs 
with  hot  water  for  the  doctors,  whispered  to  her 
father  as  he  turned  in  to  his  own  room,  "Keep  on 
praying,  father.  I  Can't  stop  now,  because  they 
need  me.  But  I'm  praying  every  minute  between 
errands !"  And  Mr.  Starr,  kneeling  beside  his  bed, 
did  pray, — and  the  stony  despair  in  his  eyes  died 
out,  and  he  came  from  the  little  room  quiet,  and 
confident,  and  calm. 

Connie  had  been  unfortunate.  In  seeking  a  se- 
cluded corner  to  "pray  for  Prudence,"  she  had 
passed  the  door  of  the  dungeon,  and  paused.  A  fit- 
ting place!  So  she  turned  in  at  once,  drawing  the 
door  after  her,  but  leaving  it  a  couple  of  inches 
ajar.  Then  in  the  farthest  and  darkest  corner,  she 
knelt  on  the  hard  floor,  and  prayed,  and  sobbed 
herself  to  sleep.  Fairy  passing  through  the  hall, 
observed  the  door  ajar,  and  gave  it  a  slight  push, 
The  lock  snapped  into  plate,  but  Connie  did  not 
waken. 


334     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

Lark  remained  loyally  with  Carol  until  conscious- 
ness returned  to  her.  As  soon  as  she  was  able  to 
walk,  the  two  went  silently  to  the  barn,  and  climbed 
into  the  much-loved  haymow.  There  they  lay  flat 
on  the  hay,  faces  downward,  each  with  an  arm 
across  the  other's  shoulder,  praying  fervently. 
After  a  time  they  rose  and  crept  into  the  house, 
where  they  waited  patiently  until  Fairy  came  down 
on  one  of  her  numerous  errands. 

"Is  she  better?"  they  whispered.  And  Fairy  an- 
swered gently,  "I  think  she  is  a  little  better."  Then 
the  twins,  in  no  way  deceived,  went  back  to  the 
haymow  again. 

Fairy  prepared  a  hasty  supper,  and  arranged  it 
on  the  kitchen  table.  She  drank  a  cup  of  hot  coffee, 
and  went  in  search  of  her  father.  "Go  and  eat, 
dadsie,"  she  urged.  But  he  shook  his  head. 

"I  am  not  hungry,  but  send  the  girls  to  the  table 
at  once." 

On  their  next  trip  into  the  house,  Fairy  stopped 
the  twins.  "Get  Connie,  and  eat  your  supper.  It's 
just  a  cold  lunch,  and  is  already  on  the  kitchen 
table.  You  must  help  yourselves, — I  can't  come 
now," 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  335 

The  twins  did  not  speak,  and  Fairy  went  hur- 
riedly up  the  stairs  once  more. 

"I  do  not  think  I  can  eat,"  said  Carol. 

"I  know  I  can't,"  was  Lark's  reply. 

"Won't  Fairy  make  us?    She'll  tell  papa." 

"We'd  better  take  away  about  half  of  this  food, 
and  hide  it.  Then  she  will  think  we  have  already 
eaten." 

.This  novel  plan  was  acted  upon  with  promptitude. 

"Where's  Connie?  She  ought  to  eat  something. 
We  must  make  her  do  it." 

"She  probably  cried  herself  to  sleep  somewhere. 
We'd  better  let  her  alone.  She'll  feel  much  better 
asleep  and  hungry,  than  awake  and  sorry  for  Prue." 

So  the  twins  went  back  to  the  haymow.  When 
it  grew  dark,  they  slipped  into  the  kitchen,  and 
huddled  together  on,  the  woodbox  beside  the  stove. 
And  down  to  them  presently  came  Fairy,  smiling, 
her  eyes  tear-brightened. 

"She  is  better !"  cried  Carol,  springing  to  her  feet. 

"Yes,"  said  Fairy,  dropping  on  her  knees  and 
burying  her  face  in  Lark's  lap,  as  she  still  sat  on 
the  woodbox.  "She's  better.  She  is  better."  Lark 
patted  the  heaving  shoulders  in  a  motherly  way, 


336     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

and  when  Fairy  lifted  her  face  again  it  was  all 
serene,  though  her  lashes  were  wet. 

"She  is  conscious,"  said  Fairy,  still  on  her  knees, 
but  with  her  head  thrown  back,  and  smiling.  "She 
regained  consciousness  a  little  while  ago.  There 
is  nothing  really  serious  the  matter.  It  was  a  hard 
knock,  but  it  missed  the  temple.  When  she  became 
conscious,  she  looked  up  at  father  and  smiled. 
Father  looked  perfectly  awful,  twins,  so  pale,  and 
his  lips  were  trembling.  And  Prudence  said,  'Now, 
father,  on  your  word  of  honor,  did  you  knock  me 
down  with  that  ball  on  purpose?'  She  spoke  very 
low,  and  weak,  but — just  like  Prudence!  Father 
couldn't  say  a  word,  he  just  nodded,  and  gulped. 
She  has  a  little  fever,  and  the  doctors  say  we  may 
need  to  work  with  her  part  of  the  night  Father 
said  to  ask  if  you  would  go  to  bed  now,  so  you 
can  get  up  early  in  the  morning  and  help  us.  I 
am  to  stay  with  Prudence  to-night,  but  you  may 
have  to  take  turns  in  the  morning.  And  you'll  have 
to  get  breakfast,  too.  So  father  thinks  you  would 
better  go  to  bed.  Will  you  do  that,  twinnies  ?" 

"Will  we!"  And  Carol  added,  "Will  you  kiss 
Prudence  good  night  for  us,  and  tell  her  we  kept 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  337 

praying  all  the  time?  Prudence  is  such  a  great 
hand  for  praying,  you  know." 

Fairy  promised,  and  the  twins  crept  up-stairs. 
It  was  dark  in  their  room. 

"We'll  undress  in  the  dark  so  as  not  to  awake 
poor  little  Connie,"  whispered  Lark.  "It's  nice  she 
can  sleep  like  that,  isn't  it?" 

And  the  twins  went  to  bed,  and  fell  asleep  after 
a  while,  never  doubting  that  Connie,  in  her  corner 
of  the  room,  was  already  safe  and  happy  in  the 
oblivion  of  slumber. 

But  poor  Connie!  She  had  not  wakened  when 
Fairy  closed  the  dungeon  door.  It  was  long  after- 
ward when  she  sat  up  and  began  rubbing  her  eyes. 
She  did  not  know  where  she  was.  Then  she  re- 
membered! She  wondered  if  Prudence — •  She 
scrambled  to  her  feet,  and  trotted  over  to  the  dun- 
geon door.  It  was  locked,  she  could  not  turn  the 
knob.  At  first,  she  thought  of  screaming  and 
pounding  on  the  door. 

"But  that  will  arouse  Prudence,  and  frighten  her, 
and  maybe  kill  her,"  she  thought  wretchedly.  "I'll 
just  keep  still  until  some  one  passes." 

But  no  one  passed  for  a  long  time,  and  Connie 


338     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

stretched  her  aching  little  body  and  sobbed,  worry- 
ing about  Prudence,  fearful  on  her  own  account. 
She  had  no  idea  of  the  time.  She  supposed  it  was 
still  early.  And  the  parsonage  was  deathly  quiet. 
Maybe  Prudence  had  died!  Connie  writhed  in 
agony  on  the  hard  floor,  and  sobbed  bitterly.  Still 
she  would  not  risk  pounding  on  the  dungeon  door. 

Up-stairs,  in  the  front  room,  Prudence  was  at 
that  time  wrestling  with  fever.  Higher  and  higher 
it  rose,  until  the  doctors  looked  very  anxious.  They 
held  a  brief  consultation  in  the  corner  of  the  room. 
Then  they  beckoned  to  Mr.  Starr. 

"Has  Prudence  been  worrying  about  something 
this  winter?" 

"Yes." 

"Has  she  been  grieving,  and  fretting  for  some- 
thing?" 

"Yes,  she  has." 

"It  is  that  young  man,  isn't  it?"  inquired  the 
family  doctor, — a  Methodist  "member." 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  bring  him  here?" 

"Yes, — as  soon  as  he  can  get  here  from  Des 
Moines." 

"You'd  better  do  it.    She  has  worn  herself  down 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  339 

nearly  to  the  point  of  prostration.  We  think  we 
can  break  this  fever  without  serious  consequences, 
but  get  the  young  man  as  soon  as  possible.  She 
can  not  relax  and  rest,  until  she  gets  relief." 

So  he  went  down-stairs  and  over  the  telephone 
dictated  a  short  message  to  Jerry.  "Please  come, — 
Prudence." 

When  he  entered  the  front  bedroom  again, 
Prudence  was  muttering  unintelligible  words  un- 
der her  breath.  He  kneeled  down  beside  the  bed, 
and  put  his  arms  around  her.  She  clung  to  him 
with  sudden  passion. 

"Jerry !  Jerry !"  she  cried.  Her  father  caressed 
and  petted  her,  but  did  not  speak. 

"Oh,  I  can't,"  she  cried  again.  "I  can't,  Jerry,  I 
can't!"  Again  her  voice  fell  to  low  mumbling. 
"Yes,  go.  Go  at  once.  I  promised,  you  know. — 
They  haven't  any  mother. — I  promised.  Jerry! 
Jerry!"  Her  voice  rang  out  so  wildly  that 
Connie,  down  in  the  dungeon,  heard  her  cries 
and  sobbed  anew,  relieved  that  Prudence  was  living, 
frightened  at  the  wildness  of  her  voice.  "Oh,  I  do 
want  you — more  than  anybody.  Don't  go!— Oh, 
yes,  go  at  once.  I  promised. — Father  needs  me." 
And  then  a  piercing  shriek,  "He  is  falling!  Con- 


340     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

nie,  drop  that  rope  I"  She  struggled  up  in  the  bed, 
and  gazed  wildly  about  her, — then,  panting,  she 
fell  back  on  the  pillows. 

But  Mr.  Starr  smiled  gently  to  himself.  So  that 
was  the  answer !  Oh,  foolish  little  Prudence !  Oh, 
sweet-hearted  little  martyr  girl! 

Hours  later  the  fever  broke,  and  Prudence  drifted 
into  a  deep  sleep.  Then  the  doctors  went  down- 
stairs with  Mr.  Starr,  talking  in  quiet  ordinary 
tones. 

"OH,  she  is  all  right  now,  no  danger  at  all.  She'll 
do  fine.  Let  her  sleep.  Send  Fairy  to  bed,  too. 
Keep  Prudence  quiet  a  few  days, — that's  all.  She's 
all  right/' 

They  did  not  hear  the  timid  knock  at  the  dun* 
geon  door.  But  after  they  had  gone  out,  Mr.  Starr 
locked  the  door  behind  them,  and  started  back 
through  the  hall  to  see  if  the  kitchen  doors  were 
locked.  He  distinctly  heard  a  soft  tapping,  and  he 
smiled.  "Mice !"  he  thought.  Then  he  hears*/  pome- 
thing  else, — a  faintly  whispered  "Father!" 

With  a  sharp  exclamation  he  unlocked  cwl  opened 
the  dungeon  door,  and  Connie  fell  into  hw  arms, 
sobbing  piteously.  And  he  did  the  only  wise  thing 
to  do  under  such  circumstances.  He  sat  down  on 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  341 

the  hall  floor  and  cuddled  the  child  against  his 
breast.  He  talked  to  her  soothingly  until  the  sobs 
quieted,  and  her  voice  was  under  control. 

"Now,  tell  father,"  he  urged,  "how  did  you  get 
in  the  dungeon?  The  twins " 

"Oh,  no,  father,  of  course  not,  the  twins  wouldn't 
do  such  a  thing  as  that.  I  went  into  the  dungeon 
to  pray  that  Prudence  would  get  well.  And  I 
prayed  myself  to  sleep.  When  I  woke  up  the  door 
was  locked" 

"But  you  precious  child,"  he  whispered,  "why 
didn't  you  tall  out,  or  pound  on  the  door?" 

"I  was  afraid  it  would  excite  Prue  and  make  her 
worse,"  she  answered  simply.  And  her  father's 
kiss  was  unwontedly  tender  as  he  carried  her  up- 
stairs to  bed. 

Prudence  slept  late  the  next  morning,  and  when 
she  opened  her  eyes  her  father  was  sitting  be- 
side her. 

"All  right  this  morning,  father,"  she  said,  smil- 
ing. "Are  the  girls  at  school?" 

"No, — this  is  Saturday." 

"Oh,  of  course.  Well,  bring  them  up,  I  want 
to  see  them." 

Just  then  the  distant  whistle  of  a  locomotive 


342     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

sounded  through  the  open  window,  but  she  did  not 
notice  her  father's  sudden  start.  She  nodded  up  at 
him  again,  and  repeated,  "I  want  to  see  my  girls." 

Her  father  sent  them  up  to  her  at  once,  and  they 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  with  sorry  faces,  and 
smiled  at  her. 

"Say  something,"  whispered  Carol,  kicking  Lark 
suggestively  on  the  foot.  But  Lark  was  dumb.  It 
was  Carol  who  broke  the  silence. 

"Oh,  Prudence,  do  you  suppose  the  doctors  will 
let  me  come  in  and  watch  them  bandage  your  head  ? 
I  want  to  begin  practising  up,  so  as  to  be  ready  for 
the  next  war." 

Then  they  laughed,  and  the  girls  realized  that 
Prudence  was  really  alive  and  quite  as  always. 
They  told  her  of  Connie's  sad  experience,  and  Pru- 
dence comforted  her  sweetly. 

"It  just  proves  all  over  again,"  she  declared, 
smiling,  but  with  a  sigh  close  following,  "that  you 
can't  get  along  without  me  to  look  after  you. 
Would  I  ever  go  to  bed  without  making  sure  that 
Connie  was  safe  and  sound?" 

Down-stairs,  meanwhile,  Mr.  Starr  was  plotting 
with  Fairy,  a  willing  assistant. 

"He'll  surely  be  in  on  this  train,  and  you  must 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  343 

keep  him  down  here  until  I  get  through  with  Pru- 
dence. I  want  to  tell  her  a  few  things  before  she 
sees  him.  Bring  him  in  quietly,  and  don't  let  him 
speak  loudly.  I  do  not  want  her  to  know  he  is 
on  hand  for  a  few  minutes.  Explain  it  to  the  girls, 
will  you?" 

After  sending  the  younger  girls  down-stairs 
again,  he  closed  the  door  of  Prudence's  room,  and 
sat  down  beside  her. 

"Prudence,  I  can't  tell  you  how  bitterly  disap- 
pointed I  am  in  you." 

"Father!" 

"Yes,  I  thought  you  loved  us, — the  girls  and  me, 
It  never  occurred  to  me  that  you  considered  us  a 
bunch  of  selfish,  heartless,  ungrateful  animals!" 

"Father!" 

"Is  that  your  idea  of  love?    Is  that " 

"Oh,  father!" 

"It  really  did  hurt  me,  Prudence.  My  dear  little 
girl,  how  could  you  send  Jerry  away,  breaking  your 
heart  and  his,  and  ours,  too, — just  because  you 
thought  us  such  a  selfish  lot  that  we  would  begrudge 
you  any  happiness  of  your  own?  Don't  you  think 
our  love  for  you  is  big  enough  to  make  us  happy 
in  seeing  you  happy?  You  used  to  say  you  would 


344     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

never  marry.  We  did  not  expect  you  to  marry, 
then.  But  we  knew  the  time  would  come  when  mar- 
riage would  seem  beautiful  and  desirable  to  you. 
We  were  waiting  for  that  time.  We  were  hoping 
for  it.  We  were  happy  when  you  loved  Jerry,  be- 
cause we  knew  he  was  good  and  kind  and  loving, 
and  that  he  could  give  you  all  the  beautiful  things 
of  life — that  I  can  never  give  my  children.  But 
you  thought  we  were  too  selfish  to  let  you  go,  and 
you  sent  him  away." 

"But  father !  Who  would  raise  the  girls  ?  Who 
would  keep  the  parsonage  ?  Who  would  look  after 
you?" 

"Aunt  Grace,  to  be  sure.  We  talked  it  over  two 
years  ago,  when  her  husband  died.  Before  that, 
she  was  not  free  to  come  to  us.  But  she  said  then 
that  whenever  we  were  ready  for  her,  she  would 
come.  We  both  felt  that  since  you  were  getting 
along  so  magnificently  with  the  girls,  it  was  better 
that  way  for  a  while.  But  she  said  that  when  your 
flitting-time  came,  she  would  come  to  us  gladly. 
We  had  it  all  arranged.  You  won't  want  to  marry 
for  a  year  or  so,  yet.  You'll  want  to  have  some 
happy  sweetheart  days  first.  And  you'll  want  to 
make  a  lot  of  those  pretty,  useless,  nonsensical 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  345 

things  other  girls  make  when  they  marry.  That's 
why  I  advised  you  to  save  your  burglar  money, — 
go  you  would  have  it  for  this.  We'll  have  Aunt 
Grace  come  right  away,  so  you  can  take  a  little 
freedom  to  be  happy,  and  to  make  your  plans.  And 
you  can  initiate  Aunt  Grace  into  the  mysteries  of 
parsonage  housekeeping." 

A  bright  strange  light  had  flashed  over  Pru- 
dence's face.  But  her  eyes  clouded  a  little  as  she 
asked,  "Do  you  think  they  would  rather  have  Aunt 
Grace  than  me?" 

"Of  course  not.  But  what  has  that  to  do  with 
it?  We  love  you  so  dearly  that  we  can  only  be 
happy  when  you  are  happy.  We  love  you  so  dearly 
that  we  can  be  happy  with  you  away  from  us, — just 
knowing  that  you  are  happy.  But  you — you 
thought  our  love  was  such  a  hideous,  selfish,  little 
make-believe  that " 

"Oh,  father,  I  didn't!  You  know  I  didn't!— 
But — maybe  Jerry  won't  forgive  me  now?" 

"Why  didn't  you  talk  it  over  with  me,  Pru^ 
dence?" 

"I  knew  you  too  well,  father.  I  knew  it  would 
be  useless.  But — doesn't  it  seem  wrong,  father, 
that — a  girl — that  I — should  love  Jerry  more  than 


346     PRUDENCE  OF  THE  PARSONAGE 

— you  and  the  girls?  That  he  should  come  first? 
Doesn't  it  seem — wicked?" 

"No,  Prudence,  it  is  not  wicked.  After  all,  per- 
haps it  is  not  a  stronger  and  deeper  love.  You 
were  willing  to  sacrifice  him  and  yourself,  for  our 
sakes!  But  it  is  a  different  love.  It  is  the  love  of 
woman  for  man, — that  is  very  different  from  sister- 
love  and  father-love.  And  it  is  right.  And  it  is 
beautiful." 

"I  am  sure  Jerry  will  forgive  me.  Maybe  if 
you  will  send  me  a  paper  and  pencil — I  can  write 
him  a  note  now  ?  There's  no  use  waiting,  is  there  ? 
Fairy  will  bring  it,  I  am  sure." 

But  when  a  few  minutes  later,  she  heard  a  step 
in  the  hall  outside,  she  laid  her  arm  across  her  face. 
Somehow  she  felt  that  the,  wonderful  joy  and  love 
shining  in  her  eyes  should  be  kept  hidden  until 
Jerry  was  there  to  see.  She  heard  the  door  open, 
and  close  again. 

"Put  them  on  the  table,  Fairy  dearest,  and — leave 
me  for  a  little  while,  will  you  ?  Thank  you."  And 
her  face  was  still  hidden. 

Then  the  table  by  the  bedside  was  swiftly  drawn 
away,  and  Jerry  kneeled  beside  her,  and  drew  the 
arm  from  her  face. 


FATE  TAKES  CHARGE  347 

"Jerry!"  she  whispered,  half  unbelievingly.  Then 
joyously,  "Oh,  Jerry!"  She  gazed  anxiously  into 
his  face.  "Have  you  been  sick?  How  thin  you 
are,  and  so  pale!  Jerry  Harmer,  you  need  me  to 
take  care  of  you,  don't  you?" 

But  Jerry  did  not  speak.  He  looked  earnestly 
and  steadily  into  the  joyful  eyes  for  a  moment,  and 
then  he  pressed  his  face  to  hers. 


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